One Small Step, One Giant Leap
by w0man-1n-r3d
Summary: (originally posted on tbfanfic.com) John Boulton gets more than he bargained for when an American Detective uses Sun Hill as the staging point for a major drugs bust. My first-ever fan fic! (Completed)
1. Chapter 1

One Small Step, One Giant Leap By: Ladydeakin  
  
DISCLAIMER: 'The Bill' characters depicted in this story are copyrighted to Thames Television/Pearson Corp. All other characters depicted in this story are copyrighted to the relevant author or creator.  
  
Chapter 1  
  
The night was dark, like thick blue ink. It was not a new moon, however, the moon was shrouded in cloud. No stars were visible. The pavement below his tyres swallowed up DS John Boulton's headlights. As he made his way through the nearly empty London streets, he realised how eerily quiet the sidewalks were. It was if the night sky and the Thames swallowed up everyone on Earth but him.  
  
'Could I only be so lucky,' he thought to himself. Shards of thought interrupted his consciousness - DI Meadows asking him to head the investigation. The yellow, faux-natural lighting of the trendy café bar. He had no idea what to expect; the usual drivel on TV should give an idea, however stereotypes portrayed on the US sitcoms he watched during his many sleepless nights were hardly considered to be doing homework for the real thing - what he faced today. She unsettled him by one glance. That accent. That stare.  
  
'I should be used to this by now', he thought. 'How many years have I been a copper? Damn it.'  
  
John pulled into his parking space behind his block of flats. He slowly made his way up the steps, loosening his tie. He was sweating, despite the crisp touch of fall in the air.  
  
'For God's sake, it's not as if she's the prettiest girl I've ever seen,' John berated himself. 'Get yourself together. Concentrate.' In John Boulton's world there was no room for weakness, especially the kind of weakness he was experiencing at the moment.  
  
Opening up the door to his flat, his eyes quickly darted around the room, force of habit after one too many death threats. Hanging up his jacket on the peg, he walked to the kitchen and poured himself a double scotch. As the fiery liquid made it's way down his throat to his stomach, he allowed himself to relive the events of the day.  
  
* * *  
  
It started out normal enough - he was at Sun Hill by 8:00, had his coffee by 8:05 and was at his desk reviewing his case files when Kerry Holmes walked in.  
  
"Morning, Sarge, Meadows is looking for you."  
  
"Thanks, Kerry," he said.  
  
'Jack Meadows,' he thought, 'one person I don't need to see. I've got a few leads to see in this robbery-assault case that need 'persuading' to cooperate,' he smiled to himself. As he knocked on Meadows' door, he hoped that, whatever it was, it wouldn't take long.  
  
"Come in," Meadows said, "Ah, John, close the door. I've got an important case that you need to give urgent attention to."  
  
"But Guv," John said, "I've already got plenty of work to do on this robbery. Duncan's meeting me at 10:00 and we're going to see if we can get Alex King to talk to us."  
  
"No John, this gets your highest priority. I've assigned Don Beech to take over with Duncan."  
  
John could feel the resentment crawling up his spine and settling in his jaw. His back stiffened as he eyed Meadows angrily.  
  
"And just what is so important that you have to pull me off of my case in order to give it my full attention," John asked, the anger in his voice undisguised.  
  
"It's an interesting errand, more than it is a case. My friend at the Yard, Chief Inspector Ritter contacted Mr. Brownlow and myself recently. They are working in conjunction with the FBI to infiltrate an international drug cartel. They have reason to believe the kingpin is here, in Sun Hill. You will be investigating him, and his local connections to see where the drugs go after they arrive in London. You will be working on this case with Special Agent June Gowan, of the FBI, on this case."  
  
"But Guv!" John exclaimed, "Can't I take Kerry or Rod instead of some know- it-all Yank who has no idea how the Met works? I mean, I don't want to get caught in the line of fire when she mistakenly shoots down the suspect!"  
  
Meadows was beginning to get irate. "John, Special Agent Gowan has been working at Scotland Yard for two years. Her speciality is liasing with Met officers to help gather evidence in international cases. I trust you'll find her knowledgeable about UK policing procedures and most definitely not armed."  
  
"So, how do I go about starting work on this case?" John asked, defeated.  
  
"Donavici's café, 1:30. She'll be waiting for you and will brief you. John, I cannot emphasise enough the need for discretion. Do not discuss this case with anyone apart from the officers involved in it. This case will eventually involve undercover work, and it's important not to prematurely blow the covers of the people involved. Any questions?"  
  
"Just one, Guv. Will I be involved in the undercover work?"  
  
"More than probably." Meadows said. 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2  
  
John was at Donavici's at 1:15. He saw her before she saw him. It wasn't the way she was dressed - dark blue suit, long reddish-blonde hair pulled up in a bun. It wasn't that she was talking loudly or acting like she owned the place, as most American tourists do. She sat there, with a cup of tea, with milk, no sugar, reading the International Herald-Tribune. He observed what was to become his new partner for a minute. She seemed to exude confidence; a woman in a man's world, she makes her own rules.  
  
'This should be fun', John thought to himself, sarcastically.  
  
It was if she knew he was watching her, for, at that moment, she stood up and turned around, immediately spotting him standing at the bar. She walked over to him, with an outstretched hand.  
  
"Detective Sergeant Boulton, I'm Special Agent June Gowan. It's good to finally meet you," she said.  
  
She had a firm handshake, like he knew she would. John said, "Nice to meet you, I've heard a lot about you."  
  
June gave him the once over, and with an ironic smile, said, "I sincerely hope not. Please, sit down."  
  
Sliding the manila folder across the table, John regarded the mug shot paper clipped to the top. The man in the photo was handsome, with chiselled Latin features, almost like a younger version of Julio Iglacias.  
  
"John, this is Pedro Escoverda, a.k.a. Ajax Handen. He's the target. We believe he is the leader of a major drugs triangle - Bogotá, Columbia to Miami, Florida and from Miami to New York City, and then on to London. Where the drugs go from London, we're not sure yet. We believe he sells them to suppliers, who in turn sell them off to local dealers. Currently we are monitoring the situation in Miami and New York. With your co-operation we would like to start tracing the dealers to their suppliers and then onto Escoverda. Currently Escoverda is under surveillance. Once we have established a clear link between dealers, suppliers and Escoverda, we will infiltrate his gang and arrest him."  
  
"Where do we begin, Special Agent Gowan," John asked, not sure who was the senior officer, using her title so not to offend.  
  
"With a dealer that I believe you know quite well, John, a man by the name of Tony Rourke. We have reason to believe that his supplier is receiving drugs from Escoverda. I want to pull Rourke and get him to talk. Also, please call me June."  
  
"I've got a couple of questions, June." John said, leaning forward in his seat, "Why was I chosen for this case?"  
  
"DI Meadows chose you for your knowledge of the local drugs scene and personal knowledge of a lot of the dealers involved. Also your methods were an advantage. We needed a tough cop on the job and you've got quite a reputation of being a pit bull when it comes down to it. Mr. Meadows assures us that you can provide the skills we need," June smiled, looking at him directly in his eyes.  
  
"Will you be doing the investigations with me?" John asked.  
  
"I will work alongside you throughout the investigations. I take my orders directly from Scotland Yard and am accountable for all parts of the investigation."  
  
"I see," John took a sip of coffee.  
  
"So, do you know where we can find Rourke?" June asked.  
  
"'Course I do, I've been trying to find solid evidence on him for months, but he's always managed to come off clean," John said.  
  
John was beginning to feel a bit of enthusiasm for this case. It was going to be a lot of work, by the sound of things, but to be a part of an international operation certainly did appeal to him. June seemed to be nice as well. And beautiful. And smart. He was starting to believe he was going to enjoy working with her. There was something about her, the way she looked at him, the way she spoke, that seemed to cut through right down into him. She was unlike anyone he ever had met before.  
  
"We'll organise surveillance on Rourke, catch him in the act, and that will be enough evidence to bring him in. I'll call my boss and have him start the obbo using people from area. In the meantime, we'll try to dredge up information on Rourke or any other potential targets from this list of possibilities," June said, pouring herself another cup of tea.  
  
"Ok, sounds good to me." John usually hated getting stuck with this sort of grunt work; however, in this instance he didn't mind. June knew what she was talking about - he was sure of it. She looked at him intensely; her eyes were like two glittering emeralds.  
  
"John you must give this your full attention. It is important you do not discuss this case with anyone other than Mr. Meadows, Mr. Brownlow, myself, or other officers from the Yard who are also working on it. If Escoverda discovers we're on to him, he'll disappear, it's happened before."  
  
"Mr. Meadows has already been through this" - June interrupted John.  
  
"But what you don't understand is that he'll attempt to kill anyone who was involved in the investigation. He killed two FBI agents when they were on to him the last time. He disappeared for three years - no leads, no sightings. It was only Scotland Yard's monitoring of the drug scene that detected there were shipments coming in from New York. We then had a fresh lead of Escoverda's whereabouts."  
  
"I understand, June." John couldn't quite place her accent. It was almost English, but the sudden drawn out vowel, or phrasing, betrayed her parent country. He found himself listening closely when she spoke, to 'hunt out' the American in her otherwise public-school manner of speaking.  
  
June ran a hand through her rusty hair, pausing at the site of her bun and then down the back of her neck. John's breath caught in his throat for a second, but he berated himself to stop mooning over her like a schoolboy, and forced himself to concentrate on the matter at hand. He sipped his coffee and smiled at her, a lovely sight for the privileged few.  
  
"I'll get started on Rourke. What will you be doing in the meantime?" John asked.  
  
"Helping you, what else?" June said, raising her eyebrows slightly. "We're on this case together. Meadows is arranging me a place to work at Sun Hill."  
  
After arriving at Sun Hill, the proper introductions were made. A story about June being a representative of the Yard working on "inter-branch compliance" with John as the Sun Hill co-ordinator was firmly put in place to stop the questions. The only one who seemed interested in June was Reg Hollis, who volunteered to help in any way possible to bring Sun Hill up to scratch. June hoped that Reg would be pacified by her, "Maybe, we'll see" response but John assured her that Reg would be around every corner offering helpful advice, and generally being a pain in the arse. June smiled and made her way to her new desk.  
  
John and June started the arduous task of running names of possible connections through the computer. Most of the names had priors for robbery, GBH or dealing. Most of them John knew, or knew about, however two names came up clean - Michael Blake and Tony Woods. John compiled an address list.  
  
"When does the obbo start on Rourke?" John asked.  
  
"It's going on as we speak. They will call us if anything goes down. In the meantime, go home and get some rest - don't switch off your mobile. As soon as Rourke makes a move, we need to pull him so we can have leverage to make him talk," June said.  
  
* * *  
  
John paced around the small kitchen at his flat, letting the scotch do its work. It was a lot to absorb in a day. In many ways he felt like this case was a bomb dropping on him. It had a lot to do with June. He didn't feel like he was completely focused on things when she was around.  
  
This strange woman, he didn't know her less than 24 hours ago. John looked around, lost in thought. 'This small flat, dinners for one, late-night TV, single bed, order, everything where I like it to be, nothing as I want it to be. Is this how I want to live the rest of my life? I can focus all my time and energy into this career but do I do it because I like it, or is it because it's all I have? '  
  
'Damn her, he thought. Damn her. Making me think of things like this. I don't have time to dwell on this sort of stuff, I need to be focused.' John felt himself growing angry by these thoughts, and needed to relax quickly.  
  
John went into the bathroom and switched on the shower full blast. As the steam clouds formed, John undressed and stepped carefully under the hot jets, letting the water beat down on his back and shoulders, by now aching. He started to relax a bit, the hot water and alcohol doing much to relieve the stress, which inevitably takes its toll on his body.  
  
The thoughts picked back up again: 'Maybe she has a husband or boyfriend. Maybe she doesn't fancy me. Maybe she does. Then a louder thought: Maybe you should get your mind off of June and on to the case. Rourke, his supplier, Escoverda. Pull Rourke, get him to grass on his supplier, and use the supplier to get to Escoverda. Easy. I hope. The only question is who is going to be the one to infiltrate Escoverda's gang.' John had a gut feeling that it was going to be him. 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3  
  
Be-be-do-ba, be-be-do-ba, be-be-do-ba, beeee  
  
Ah hahahahahaha! "Don't even go there, Jack!" Ooooooohhh!  
  
Be-be-do-ba, be-be-do-ba, be-be-do-ba, beeee  
  
John Boulton woke up with a start to the sound of American sitcoms and his mobile ringing loudly. He realised that he must have dosed off in front of the telly, a common occurrence in his life, that is, if he ever does manage to dose off. John fumbled around and found the phone.  
  
"Boulton."  
  
"John, its June here. I've just been called - Rourke has just been seen receiving a large suitcase from someone. We think it's drugs. I'm on my way over."  
  
"Where did it take place?" John asked, stifling a yawn.  
  
"Underneath Basal Bridge, in back of the Bronte estate," June said.  
  
"Close to home." John said, feeling slightly more awake.  
  
"Yeah. I'll be at yours in 10 minutes. See you outside."  
  
John grumbled to himself as he hurriedly threw some clothes on. He washed his face with cold water to help shake the sleep out of his head.  
  
'The first bit of sleep I've had in ages,' John thought,' and Rourke decides to disturb it with his drug deal. I'm going to make sure to disturb him.' The thought of giving Rourke trouble gave John oceans of pleasure.  
  
June rang the bell just as John was tightening his tie. He came running down the hallway, switching off lights and grabbing his keys, mobile, warrant card and black leather jacket. This is John Boulton at the top of his game. Locking the door quickly, he ran down the steps and opened the door to the block, and she stood there, long black trench coat, warding off the misty rain. It was 2:30 AM, and the streetlights gave her a golden glow, as if she had phosphorescence around her. She flashed him a quick smile and motioned to her car.  
  
"Let's go, I've gotten a call. Rourke's gone to Switcher's Night Club with his suitcase. We think he's going to flog his goods there."  
  
"Switcher's Night Club? Never heard of it." John said, stepping into her green Alfa Romeo 156. "Nice car - does the Yard pick it up?"  
  
"No, it's mine. I needed something with an engine under it, one that guzzled gas and went like hell. Sort of like my old car back home." June smiled.  
  
"Spoken like a true American." John looked over at her and smiled as the engine revved.  
  
"I picked you up a coffee on the way over. Here. I wasn't sure how you like it, so I just left it black. There's paraphernalia in the glove box if you need it." The Doors played softly on the car stereo, one of John's favourite bands. June made her way quickly through the London streets, paying no mind to speed limits. John wondered about her driving ability. She drove as if she's always driven on the left-hand side of the road.  
  
"Is it hard for you driving on the left?" John asked.  
  
"Not at all - I've done courses to learn how to do it. What's hard is driving back home - for the first few minutes I'm a hazard to everyone within a 5-mile radius but I adjust. Once you've learned how to do it both ways, your mind adjusts accordingly." June seemed to enjoy speaking about her home.  
  
"And where is home?" John inquired, sipping his coffee.  
  
"Arlington, Virginia, on the outskirts of Washington D.C. I don't miss it often, as I love England. However, it is good to go back to rest one's karma, so to speak." June's voice seemed to switch from reminiscent to business again, and John had a feeling that any further questions about America would not be welcome.  
  
"Do you know anything about Switcher's Night Club?" John asked.  
  
"We know it's ran by Michael Blake - he was one of the names on the list we went through earlier. We believe Blake may be a connection to Escoverda. The legitimate end of the business, fronts for which people like Rourke come in and sell drugs. They appear to be external, your average everyday dealers, but the nightclub turns a blind eye because it's all connected. The dealer gets caught; the nightclub stays above reproach, they get a new dealer to step in."  
  
They pulled up to Switchers 'Nite Klub'. It looked like the kind of place that should have been shut down sometime in the 70's. Loud thumping base and drums thudded all around them, audible in the car with the windows and doors shut. There was a gorilla on the door. It was on the edge of the Sun Hill area, in the grey zone divided up between Barton Street and Sun Hill. John wondered if this was on their patch.  
  
"Nice place." John said, sarcastically under his breath.  
  
June grinned, "Yeah. The kind of place I'd spend a top night out in." Rolling her eyes, she said, "Let's make this quick."  
  
Stepping out of the car, the pungent odours of kebab, marijuana smoke, and sweat tickled John's nose. The gorilla eyed them suspiciously but waved them through. John spotted Rourke sitting in a corner, suitcase open on the table, with a few girls sitting next to him.  
  
Rourke spotted John walk in and let out a little scream. He grabbed the case and started to leg it across the dance floor. Unfortunately for Rourke, he tripped over someone's dancing feet and fell, the suitcase in hand. That was all John needed.  
  
"Tony, Tony, Tony. What do we have here?" John said, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him to his feet.  
  
"Sod off, you pig." Rourke said, glaring at Boulton.  
  
"Now Tony, where are your manners? Speaking like that in front of a lady. What's in the case?"  
  
"Clothes. I'm going on holiday to Ibiza. Piss off, Boulton. I ain't done nuffin' wrong."  
  
"Well, let's just see if you remembered your swimming costume. June, have a look for our friend Tone, here." John pried the case out of Rourke's hand and gave it to June. John gave Rourke a shake and grabbed him behind the arms, holding him tightly in an awkward position.  
  
June opened the case carefully. Inside the suitcase were 10 pairs of underwear. Inside the underwear were packets of ecstasy and marijuana. June said, "It's E's and weed, John."  
  
"Right, I'm arresting you for possession of drugs with intent to sell. You do not have to say anything but it may harm your defence if you do not answer when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence. You're nicked." Tony Rourke struggled in vain against Boulton handcuffing him but allowed himself to be led out of the club into the back of June's Alfa. John didn't notice, but as June left the club she saw out of the corner of her eye the barman on the phone, glancing at them. She figured that Escoverda already knew that Rourke had been picked up. They would have to watch their steps.  
  
* * *  
  
Driving back to the station with Rourke in tow was quite an experience in itself. For starters, he was high, probably off of his own gear. First he whined that he was hungry. John told him to save it for a bloke named Reg back at the station. Then he whined that he didn't like the music. June looked over at John and turned up the radio, 'Riders on the Storm'. She started to sing, audible but not loud.  
  
John stifled a grin and chuckled to himself. 'She's got a good sense of humour,' he thought to himself.  
  
Rourke whined that he felt like he was going to throw up. June screeched the car to the side of the road and shouted, "John get him out of here now!" John took Rourke out and let him do what he needed to do by the side of the road. John put him back in the car and glared at June.  
  
"Why did I have to deal with him?" John asked.  
  
"Because I'm driving and I don't feel like scrubbing some junkie's vomit out of my car, that's why! I didn't see you volunteering to take your car!"  
  
"I didn't think we had time, besides, you could have used a station car." John said, angrily.  
  
"Yeah, whatever, where was I supposed to get a station car at 2:30 AM? I was at home in my pyjamas watching South Park, for your information, when I got the call. I live in Islington. Do you have any idea how fast I drove to get to your apartment?"  
  
John said, "What sort of copper watches South Park? Are you fourteen years old or something?"  
  
Just then, Rourke said, "I'm not fat, I'm big boned! Yeah I like cheesy puffs! Kyle's in love with Wendy Testaberger!"  
  
John looked at June, "Are you happy now? We've got Eric Cartman in the back seat."  
  
June raised her eyebrows, "And how do you know who Eric Cartman is if you don't watch South Park yourself, eh John? Who's fourteen now?"  
  
June looked over at John briefly, stuck her tongue out at him, and drove on to Sun Hill nick. Even in the dark car, she could see the smile glinting in his eyes.  
  
* * *  
  
On the night check-in desk at Sun Hill station, Reg Hollis was organising, which was a sure-fire way to annoy the morning relief, although Reg didn't see it that way. Pens, pencils, rubber bands, paper clips, and scissors, everything in its proper place. Everything neat, nice and orderly. In walked DS Boulton and that new American girl from the Yard, Special Agent Gowan, Reg thought. It's a bit late for them to be catching crooks. I wonder what they're up to.  
  
"One single room for the night, please Reg. Our friend Tony Rourke is checking in." John smiled.  
  
"What's he in for?" Reg asked, filling in the necessary custody papers.  
  
"Possession with intent to sell." John looked over at June who was getting herself a glass of water from the cooler.  
  
"Why are you two out so late?" Reg asked, quizzically, as if the answer to the question was the meaning of life.  
  
"It's, erm, inter-branch compliance, Reg. Special Agent Gowan, here, wanted to evaluate my methods of apprehending criminals." John shifted his weight from his left foot to his right foot and gave Rourke a shake for good measure. Rourke groaned, his stomach still doing flip-flops.  
  
"Well, if you need to evaluate uniform's methods, I wouldn't mind taking you on patrol with me to show you how uniform operates, that is, if you want to, Special Agent Gowan." Reg said, looking at her.  
  
June smiled, sipped her water and said, "I may take you up on that Reg. I'll let you know when a good time would be."  
  
"Put him in cell 3 Sarge." Reg said. "And don't forget to let me know, Special Agent Gowan. May I call you just Agent Gowan?"  
  
June nodded, and as soon as they were out of earshot, she whispered to John, "I see what you mean, every nick's got one." and giggled.  
  
After they finished with Rourke for the evening, it was 4:30 AM. They decided not to interview him tonight, as it would be more effective once he was in withdrawal and needed a fix. June offered to drop John back at his place, and he gladly agreed.  
  
* * *  
  
Dawn was just starting to break the dark blue sky, streaking the horizon with pink and orange stripes, with light blue traces around the sides. It was going to be a warm day today, despite the fact that it was October in London.  
  
June said "Indian summer."  
  
John looked over at her, "Hunh?"  
  
"Indian summer - it's what we call it in America. Warm days into the fall - it means a hard winter is ahead. Isn't the sky beautiful?"  
  
John looked around him, noticing the sky changing from night to dawn. "Hmm, yeah. Colourful, isn't it?"  
  
June laughed, "I take it you didn't do art in sixth-form."  
  
"I dropped it as soon as I could. I have no time for that artsy rubbish. I'm a copper. All that arts stuff seemed to me to be a waste of time."  
  
"You should take more of an interest in humanities - literature, arts, history. It's only through an understanding of man's motives that we can truly solve social problems." June finished her water and crushed the paper cup, dropping it in the empty coffee cup. She steered out of Sun Hill station and drove down the street. A stray dog scampered past them on the pavement.  
  
"This from the woman who watches South Park."  
  
"Oi, you, give over. It's good for a laugh, on nights I can't sleep. I didn't say it was high art. I just said it was funny!" June exclaimed, nudging Boulton in the arm.  
  
"I'm only teasing, don't get all defensive, June!" John smiled to himself. 'Someone can dish it out but can't take it.'  
  
"Anyway," June started, "I reckon you spend your nights watching Yank shit- coms: Friends, Spin City, and Fraiser. I bet you thought I would be a stereotypical Yank, all know-it-all, let's go to Lei-ces-ter square, 'Hey are you from England?' nonsense. We're not all living in the dark ages or on package holidays."  
  
"And you're proof of that?"  
  
"Yes, I do think I am, for your information." June said, a hint of irritation evident in her voice. "I do the best I can to fit in, and not act like a stereotypical Yank. I hope that I can abolish some of the stereotypes which a lot of my countrymen and women seem to relish fitting into."  
  
"Well, let's just say that you're not what I expected and leave it at that." John smiled at her.  
  
"Quite. However, you're everything that I expected: pompous, arrogant, full of himself and enough of a know-it-all to compensate for my efforts." As they were pulling up to a red light, June turned her head to John and gave a sickeningly sweet mocking smile.  
  
John pretended that he was offended, "Oh I get it, who's stereotyping who now? Frankly, Special Agent Gowan, I'm shocked at your dark-ages interpretation of English coppers. We don't all go around wearing the tit on our head and respond to "Hey Bob," you know."  
  
June turned her head towards John in a mock glare. She found him smiling back at her, teasing, and enjoying the banter that occurs when two people lack sleep but enjoy each other's company. She thought he was handsome from the outset, and found his sense of humour and devotion to the job a wonderful switch.  
  
"Well, Detective Sergeant Boulton, you certainly are proof of that."  
  
John reached over and ran his fingers along a stray strand of her hair. Their eyes locked together, knowing just what it was that hung in the air, not sure if they should give in or resist each other's desire. At that moment, they heard a loud, steady honking behind them. June turned her head quickly to notice the signal had turned green.  
  
"Shit!" she exclaimed, quickly switching gears into first. June gunned the engine, tearing through the streets.  
  
* * *  
  
For the rest of the ride back, the thought of what might have been hung heavy in the air between them. Neither of them spoke, as they were both lost in thought.  
  
"Sorry, John." June said, as they pulled into his block of flats.  
  
John jumped a tiny bit, startled by hearing her speak. "What for?"  
  
"It's wrong to create an atmosphere between two people working on a case together. I'm apologising for my lack of professionalism. I should have been more restrained. It won't happen again."  
  
John turned his head to look at her, "And why shouldn't it happen? June, since the moment I saw you, you've had me spinning. You are telling me that you have the same sort of feelings for me. Why shouldn't we be allowed to explore this?"  
  
"Because," June said firmly, "It's not proper, it's not right for two officers working on a case to have an atmosphere between them. It could jeopardise the whole operation, put us in danger, and cloud our judgement. I am not about to ruin years of work, and sully the memory of the officers who gave their lives to bring Escoverda to justice, by blowing this operation for a one-night stand with my partner. I don't want to hear any more about it. Lack of sleep clouded my judgement. It won't happen again. If you can't respect this, I will request another partner on the case."  
  
John was taken aback. He was hurt that she would feel this way. He knew that partners on a case, technically, shouldn't have any romantic interest between each other. It happens, though, and ignoring the feelings that he had for her would be almost impossible. He never felt like this before in his life. John was angry and confused by her sudden rejection.  
  
Picking up the pieces of his bruised ego, his voice had a steely cold edge that even surprised him, "Ok. If that's how you feel, strictly business from now on. I apologise for any perceived impropriety on my part. I thought you felt the same. I must have misread you. I agree, it won't happen again. Goodnight."  
  
John didn't wait for a response before he opened the door, and got out of her Alfa, slamming the door behind him and quickly walking to the door to his block of flats. June rolled down her window.  
  
"John, be back at the station at 1:00. We'll interview Rourke then. Goodnight." And she pulled away. John turned his head to watch her leave, until her taillights disappeared around the corner. He sighed to himself and unlocked the front door of the block of flats. Another scotch was in order. 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4  
  
"Interview with Anthony Rourke started at 1:15 PM, 14 October 1999. Those present, DS John Boulton, Sun Hill CID"  
  
"Special Agent June Gowan, FBI, operating under order of Scotland Yard"  
  
"Tony Rourke, you have the right to a solicitor present."  
  
"For the benefit of the tape, Tony Rourke was found at Switcher's Night Club at 3:15 AM. In his possession was a suitcase containing a large amount of marijuana and ecstasy." John leaned forward in his chair and looked Rourke squarely in the eyes.  
  
"Where did you get the drugs, Tony?"  
  
Tony Rourke was in a lot of trouble, and he knew it. He was sweating profusely. The ecstasy had long since worn off, but he still had the problem of needing a heroin fix. He stared at the tracts in his arms, the telltale black and blue marks. Under the fluorescent lights of the interview room they seemed to have a life of their own, pulsating blue and purple, red and black. His mind drifted back to a time when he was a young boy living on the Bronte estate with his Auntie Mo. Life was good then. Suddenly he heard a loud noise. It was that ginger git's voice which was creating the words in front of his eyes, which was so unpleasant. Tony needed more heroin.  
  
"Tony, where did you get the drugs?" John was shouting now, as Rourke appeared to be dazing off into a stupor.  
  
"I found them in a dumpster." Rourke flashed a stupid smile and wiped his forehead with his sleeve.  
  
"Oh come on Tony, do you really expect us to believe that?" John was getting angrier by the second. "Especially when we have pictures of you receiving the suitcase underneath Basal Bridge, not more than a half-hour before you turned up at Switcher's Night Club."  
  
The revelation of the photographs took a minute to sink into Rourke's addled mind. When it finally did happen, he started to cry. "Oh shit," Rourke mumbled, putting his head in his hands. "Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit."  
  
"So who was it then, Tone? Anyone we know?" Boulton was pleased to be making the little worm squirm.  
  
"If I tell you, they'll kill me. I can't tell you." Rourke shifted about in his seat.  
  
"If you don't tell us, they'll still kill you. Now that you've been nicked, they'll have your head bashed in the moment we let you out. That is the way these guys work, Tony." June smiled warmly at Rourke. "Help us, and CPS may help you. Don't help us, and the only help you'll get is if God sends his angels to intervene. Come on, Tony. We're the best hope you have."  
  
Rourke stared at the ceiling, counting the holes in the suspended ceiling tiles. 'This is the worst pain ever, this is as bad as going to hell. I wish I was dead,' he thought to himself. 'I so wish I was dead.'  
  
"His name is Charles Spire. That's all I know."  
  
John jotted the name down on a scrap of paper. "Where does he live, Tony?"  
  
"I don't know! I gave you his name! I said that's all I know!" Rourke was beginning to get agitated.  
  
"How you contact him?" June smiled reassuringly at Tony.  
  
"I don't contact him. He contacts me on my mobile. I don't know his number. I don't know anything about him."  
  
"How did you come to work for him, Tony?" John's voice was noticeably more relaxed now that the hard part was over with.  
  
"My dealer put me in touch with him. Said it was a way I could earn money to support my habit. I can't get a job you know, it seemed easy enough. Pick up these suitcases and go to different clubs and pubs to flog the gear. None left over at the end of the night. I got 5% of the profits. Easy."  
  
"And who's your dealer, Tony?" June cocked her head to one side and picked up her pen.  
  
"Ben Bryant. Main man on the Bronte. I'm sure you guys have heard of him."  
  
"'Course we have. Ben and I are mates. Kind of." The sarcasm in John's voice was as thick as treacle.  
  
"You've done well Tony. We'll talk again." June smiled, and stood up.  
  
"Interview terminated at 2:13 PM."  
  
* * *  
  
June walked out of the interview room with John close on her heels. "June, I really think we need to talk."  
  
"Not now, John, I'm busy."  
  
"With what?"  
  
"Are you ready to go then, Agent Gowan?" Reg Hollis appeared around the corner, dressed in full uniform, dangling the keys to a panda in his hand.  
  
"Inter-Branch Compliance, John." She flashed him a smile that would melt butter. "Coming Reg, let me just put my paperwork down. Oh and John, run checks on the names which came up during the interview."  
  
June disappeared around the corner into CID's office. John glared at Reg. "Problems Sarge?" Reg asked.  
  
"Yeah. You." It was almost as if a thundercloud appeared over John's head, and if he could he would have struck Reg down with a bolt of lightning. John legged it across the hall to the 'Little Sergeant's' Room. 


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5  
  
John sat at his desk, positively seething in anger. 'How could she do this? Leave me to do all the grunt work while she goes out and plays copper with Reg bloody Hollis! First she turns me down, now she's flirting with Reg, of all people, the PC Plod of Sun Hill! When she gets back I'm going to find out just what the bloody hell she's playing at.' John looked down and realised that he subconsciously drew an effigy of Reg on the back cover of his notebook with a large axe planted in his head.  
  
"John, can I have a word please?" Jack Meadows was standing in the doorway of the CID open-plan office.  
  
"Yes Guv." John rose from his desk, knocking a pen and a few papers off. He didn't seem to notice, as preconsumed as he was in his angry thoughts.  
  
Meadows escorted John to his office and closed the door behind them. "John, how's it going with Special Agent Gowan?"  
  
"Not too well, Guv. She's a typical self-absorbed Yank and I don't know if I can deal with her attitude much longer." John stood erect, shoulders tense and jaw clenched.  
  
"She seemed absolutely charming to me when I met her. And you both got a collar last night as well, which can't be too bad. Where is she now?"  
  
"Out with Reg Hollis, Sir. He offered to take her on the beat with him and she accepted. I can't figure out why she's wasting time like that."  
  
"Do you think it may be she's covering her story so that Reg doesn't suss she's running a covert investigation?"  
  
Meadows smiled inwardly to himself. Don Beech told him that John was acting like a puppy dog around June Gowan. Jack sensed that his DS was interested in more than just solving this case but in June herself. His hostility towards her could possibly be that June refused John's advances. Meadows felt it necessary to caution John to stick on matters relating to the job only.  
  
John was starting to get irate with his Super. "Perhaps, but it doesn't seem to be her style, somehow. At any rate, she's left me to do the work tracing the information we found during our interview with Rourke. I thought she was supposed to be working together with me on this."  
  
"John, I don't think you should be worried about her style. June Gowan is a professional investigator, trained at the FBI academy in Quantico, Virginia and here at Scotland Yard. She has worked on all levels of investigations, from uniform work to matters of national security. She knows what she's doing. Mr. Brownlow and I picked you for this operation because we had faith that you could fulfil the requirements which she, personally, specified. If you don't stop being such an old woman, I am going to have to relieve you of your duties on this case."  
  
By now the anger in John Boulton was in danger of bubbling over. There was fire in his eyes, engulfing him, burning in his soul. He hated being reprimanded by anyone, especially his superiors. His natural perfectionism and fear of failure did not allow for such occurrences, and when they inevitably did occur, the anger he felt towards himself was often released on those around him, criminal or colleague.  
  
"Is that all, Guv?" John managed to growl out, through clenched jaw.  
  
"Just one more thing, John. June is a very beautiful woman. Don't get any ideas."  
  
"I beg your pardon, Sir!" John was ready to explode if he didn't get out of this office soon. Meadows' implication was really too much to bear at this moment.  
  
"You heard me, John. The rumour mill has already started regarding you and her. Just watch your back."  
  
"Guv." John left quickly. He wished he had a criminal to catch or a snout to harass, but all he had to do were the checks that June left him with. He wondered how long she would be gone. He went for a disgusting Sun Hill coffee, and as he slunk back to his desk, he passed Kerry Holmes in the hall.  
  
"Alright, Sarge? You look like someone stole your candy."  
  
John turned and looked at Kerry. She realised that she completely misread his mood and placed herself right in his firing line. Her breath caught in her throat as she prepared herself for his legendary temper.  
  
"Cram it, Kerry."  
  
John turned on his heel and walked away. Kerry was lucky. She didn't envy anyone hanging about the CID office today.  
  
* * *  
  
Around 4:00 John got a text message on his mobile from June: "Meet me outside Sun Hill at 4:30. Bring any-all information you have."  
  
'Cheers, then.' John thought, bitterly, to himself.  
  
* * *  
  
He heard their voices before he saw them.  
  
Reg: "So, do you fancy going out sometime, perhaps for a curry?"  
  
June: "Well, I'd love to, Reg, but I'm afraid I've got a boyfriend already."  
  
Reg: "Oh, I understand. Maybe just as friends then."  
  
June: "Perhaps. Thanks again for everything."  
  
Reg: "My Pleasure, June. I just hope I've been of some help. Oh, Hi Sarge."  
  
John Boulton smiled a plastic smile. "Alright Reg. On your way now."  
  
Reg sensed that Sergeant Boulton was in one of those moods again. He was a nice guy at heart, most people were. He could actually be quite lovely if he wasn't so angry all the time. Reg was almost afraid to leave June with Sergeant Boulton, seeing as he was in such a mood. After all, Reg didn't want Sun Hill to get a bad recommendation based on the Sarge's notorious temper.  
  
"Are you alright, Sarge?"  
  
"Yes Reg, now on your way!" John exclaimed, glaring a hole through Reg. Reg decided not to push John anymore and walked across the lot towards the nick.  
  
"So did you have a good day with Reg then?" John asked, sarcastically, as they got into June's car.  
  
"Right, before you start laying into me, let me just say what a relief it is to get away from that guy, and secondly, it's so good to have someone intelligent to finally talk to!" June quickly pulled out of the nick.  
  
"Then why the bloody hell did you decide to waste a whole shift going on patrol with him?"  
  
"Because, John, I know his type. He's too helpful and probably would get curious why a report on inter-branch compliance didn't assess uniform. I waste a shift on him now, when time is semi-expendable, and don't have to deal with him later on, when we have no time to lose. This way, my cover is intact and we don't have to deal with a overly-helpful PC when we really don't have time to."  
  
"Oh." John sat in silence for a few minutes. "Where are we going?"  
  
"To a little café up by my flat in Islington. I reckon you're hungry. I'm bloody famished."  
  
"Alright. Sounds good."  
  
John looked out the window, deep in thought. June put the radio on softly. It was the same Doors CD that was on the night before. She sang along to "When the Music's Over":  
  
"Cancel my subscription to the resurrection. Send my credentials to the house of detention. I've got some friends inside."  
  
John turned to look at her. "Do you have anything else?"  
  
"Yeah," June said, flipping the button on the CD player. "I've got The Doors, U2, Tori Amos, Pink Floyd and George Michael. Which do you want?"  
  
"U2. Has to be U2." John smiled. 'She has excellent music tastes. Except for George Michael. Hey, nobody's perfect,' he thought, 'I'm just glad no one knows about my large disco collection.'  
  
The opening notes to "A Sort of Homecoming" from 'The Unforgettable Fire' ripped through the car. "Are they your favourite band as well?" June asked.  
  
"Yes. Always have been, always will be. I was there in the beginning and have enjoyed them since."  
  
"Me too. I have seen them twice live, and they're absolutely magnificent. Especially Bono - what an entertainer!" June smiled, "Bono was my first love. It's too bad that him and I have never met."  
  
"And what does your boyfriend think of that?" John turned to look at her.  
  
"What boyfriend?" June asked, incredulously.  
  
"The one I heard you tell Reg about."  
  
"John, I only said that, because the thought of going out on a date with Reg Hollis makes me want to commit kamikaze!"  
  
John chuckled, "I guess I can see your point."  
  
June pulled into a parking spot outside Le Monde Verde. "I hope you like French."  
  
"Oui, mademoiselle." John grinned. Somehow, just by virtue of being around June, made all of his anger and tension magically disappear.  
  
'She has a very calming effect on me,' he thought.  
  
* * *  
  
Once seated, order placed, they began to get down to business. Rourke's two leads turned up trumps. Charles Spire had form for GBH and theft up in Leeds, and Ben Bryant, well, John was more than familiar with him already. Both had addresses.  
  
"Good work John. Excuse me for a second." June got up and went to the ladies'.  
  
After checking that she was alone, June turned on a tap in the sink and locked herself in a cubicle. She scrolled through her mobile's address book, until she found the number of her governor.  
  
"Alright, Sir, we've got two more leads. Charles Spire, GBH, theft in Leeds. He is Rourke's supplier. The person who made the connection is a Ben Bryant, apparently the main figure on the Bronte estate. Rourke claims that Bryant is his supplier. Bryant put Rourke in touch with Spire. Rourke claims that he has no way of contacting Spire. Spire contacts Rourke, gives him drugs in a suitcase and sends him to clubs and pubs within Escoverda's corporation. Rourke gets 5% of the profits. Yes, I know, it's Pittsburgh revisited. Same form. How should we proceed?"  
  
June listened closely as her governor briefed her, "Right, sir, thank you."  
  
Returning to the table, she found that the starters had been delivered. John had waited for her. What a gentleman! June liked him in spite of herself. She found him to be very sexy, his short, dark red fringe and those big eyes gave him boyish charm mixed with an older man's wisdom. He had a good heart, and was very quick. If only he would simmer down a bit, but she sensed that his anger was his frustration with his own shortcomings. He was competitive, and she guessed by his stature that he played sports or worked out.  
  
'If only situations had been different,' she thought to herself.  
  
"Ah, there you are. I thought you got lost or something." John smiled at her.  
  
"No, just freshening up, as ladies do." June took her seat. "Mmm, my favourite. Onion soup."  
  
John took a mouthful of soup, savouring the tart flavour. He swallowed, and looked over at June. "We've got to talk, June. About last night."  
  
"I know John. I was very harsh. I'm sorry. It's just that, well, I find that romances with people in the line of duty never work out."  
  
"Yes, but this time could be different." John smiled at her, leaning forward.  
  
"John, you're a lovely man, I'm going to tell you why I don't want to get involved with you. No one over here knows about it. Not my superiors, not anyone. I wanted it that way. I feel like I can trust you, though. I feel like I could tell you anything."  
  
June sighed and folded her napkin.  
  
"John, do you remember when I told you that Escoverda killed two officers? The reason that we need all this secrecy?"  
  
"Yes, June." John shifted in her seat, his eyes focused on her.  
  
"It was horrible. He killed them execution style. They knew they were going to die. It was a terrible tragedy for everyone working on the case, and many people dropped off, not being able to handle the loss of two of the FBI's best men. I was one of the people who dropped off then. A vacancy opened up in the FBI's overseas special teams, in co-ordination with Scotland Yard. I put in for a transfer and that's how I ended up here today. I never thought I would find myself working on Escoverda again."  
  
"That's terrible June, but, why does that mean that we can't be together?" John cocked his head to one side and looked at her.  
  
"John," June paused, "One of the men that was killed was my fiancé. It was a secret romance. I was in charge of the investigation and sent my lover in to die. It wasn't my fault though. Someone within the FBI was working for Escoverda and fed them Thomas and Gene's identities. I can't, I won't go through that loss again. Now do you understand?"  
  
John was taken aback. "June, I don't know what to say, I'm so sorry."  
  
"Yeah, I don't want your pity, I don't want you to be sorry. This is why I don't tell anyone. I just want you to understand, it's not you."  
  
"Alright, June. I understand. Can we be friends, though?" John sighed. John wanted to hold her, take her pain away. He felt such a strong urge to be close to her, but he knew that his advances would be rejected. She was alone, and wanted to keep it that way.  
  
"Of course we can. Partner." She grinned, with a twinkle in her eye. 


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6  
  
They finished their meals, and got back into the car. June was right, it was fantastic food. She was a fascinating person to talk to. Music, philosophy, literature, art, travel, fine food and wine, and even sport she could converse about freely. She spoke French and Spanish, played piano, sculpted, cooked and enjoyed watching rugby because it reminded her of American football. John thoroughly enjoyed her company, and her approach to the case.  
  
"Where are we off to now?" John asked.  
  
"My flat, I need to change my clothes." June said, smiling at him.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because, if I'm going to play the role of a junkie, I can't go in dressed in Ralph Lauren, wearing gold jewellery."  
  
"What?" John was surprised and didn't quite follow her.  
  
"Listen, John. We can get to Spire through Bryant. I'm going to pay Mr. Bryant a little visit and get the connection made. You can't do it, as Bryant knows you, however none of them know me. I'll get things set up. Do you follow?"  
  
"I guess, but we need to let Mr. Meadows know so he can arrange suitable back-up in case your cover is blown."  
  
June smiled at John, "No need. Area's covering me. Someone will be dropping by to give me a wire, and we'll make contact and swap cars closer to the Bronte."  
  
June pulled into the driveway of her house. It was an old Victorian, converted into apartments. She unlocked the front door, letting both of them in. Pausing to pick up her post, she made her way upstairs. Opening the front door, she keyed off her alarm.  
  
"Welcome to my humble abode. Make yourself comfortable. Want a drink? Water, wine, something harder?"  
  
"Do you have any beer?" John asked.  
  
"But of course, sir. Do you like Stella?"  
  
"Oh yes please." John regarded his surroundings: the walls and carpet were white. She had a large green wool rug in the centre of the room, with a coffee table on top of it. Her sofas were covered over with hand-made throws. A large piano took up most of one of the walls, with a candelabra on top. She had a nice sound system and TV.  
  
June's flat was actually a maisonette. "Come on upstairs, we can talk up there. She had the whole top story of the house, two bedrooms and a bathroom. A large built-in bookcase was absolutely bulging with books, classic literature, source materials, history texts, strange binders marked 'FBI Confidential', and an entire shelf devoted to Jane's military guides.  
  
She told John to wait in the spare bedroom, which she had converted into an office with three computers. One of which was on, making clicking noises. The other two appeared to be off. She went into her room, across the hall, and grabbed some clothes out of the wardrobe. Going into the bathroom, she pulled the sliding door across and spoke to him.  
  
"Here's the plan. I am going to get us a contact with Spire. We'll go in together, infiltrate his gang, but then I'm afraid I'll have to leave you to it then. My accent would give me away to anyone higher up than Spire. I will be monitoring you closely throughout, on the other end of your wiretap, at the other end of your mobile. I will follow you wherever you go, and at the first sign of trouble, I'll be there with plenty of backup. You have nothing to worry about. Nothing, absolutely nothing, is going to harm you."  
  
June seemed more concerned about this point than John himself was. He knew procedure for undercover work and was not afraid of being harmed. He figured June's paranoia must have came from her past experience dealing with Escoverda.  
  
"June, I'll be fine, I know what I'm doing."  
  
"I know you do. And so do I. That's all that matters. We're going to get him."  
  
June stepped out of the bathroom looking like something else entirely. Gone were the silks and wools of her tailored suits and demure jewellery. Ripped jeans, stained T-shirt, denim jacket, greasy hair, heavily kohled eyes, and a bizarre shade of purple-pink lipstick.  
  
"Do I look the part?"  
  
"I don't know if I want to be seen leaving with you." John laughed. "Whatever will your neighbours think?"  
  
"The little old lady downstairs already thinks I'm some sort of tom. She told me that I live a 'shameful' lifestyle; that coming and going all hours of the day and night is not fitting for a lady. How can I afford such nice clothes and such a nice car when I don't seem to hold down a tangible job?"  
  
John started to laugh. "What did you tell her?"  
  
"I told her that my lifestyle was really none of her business, just as the fact that she smokes marijuana for her 'cataracts' is really none of my business. That shut her up."  
  
John was practically howling by now. "Do you want me to have a word with her?"  
  
"No. At least she's making sure nothing suspicious is going on when I'm not around. I need that sort of security, and she's more vicious than a guard dog. Besides, no one here knows I work for the Feds, and that's how I want to keep it. Having a copper on her case might make her a bit more suspicious, and I don't need that. Anyway, let's go, it's getting late."  
  
* * *  
  
The wiretap was hidden in a package under the driver's side wheel of her car. She told John to drive while she secured it on herself under her clothing. She sang along with the U2 CD some more:  
  
"One man come in the name of love, one man come and go, one man come he to justify, one man to overthrow..."  
  
John joined in for the chorus, "In the name of love, what more in the name of love?"  
  
June waited to see what John would do at the guitar solo... there it was...  
  
John shouted, "The Edge!"  
  
June dissolved into a sea of giggles, "Yes, the Rattle and Hum live version of Pride is better than the album version, don't you think so too?"  
  
John blushed, turning as red as his hair, "Leave me alone, I can't help it."  
  
"Tell you what, next time they tour, I'll get in touch and we can go together, what do you say?" She grinned.  
  
"Yeah, that would be fantastic. Sure!" John grinned. 'I wonder if that qualifies as being asked out on a date', he thought to himself. 'Must check if U2 are touring at the moment.'  
  
John could hardly believe how much fun this assignment was turning out to be. For police work, which was usually dull and tedious, this was a blast! Driving a fast car, good tunes, in good company with a beautiful, intelligent woman, John almost felt like James Bond. It would be really easy for him to forget the whole thing. June didn't operate like he did, or anyone else at Sun Hill. She was an entity all her own. John suspected that whoever her governor was, he probably had a hard time controlling her.  
  
"Go to Ashdowne Road, on the edge of the Bronte, John. We want the alley behind Pete's Tyres."  
  
"I know it."  
  
"We're almost there, are you ready?" June glanced over at him.  
  
"Yes, whatever happens, good luck."  
  
"Cheers, John."  
  
There was a white van sitting behind Pete's Tyres, a shop long-since closed down. As they pulled around the corner, the doors of the van opened up. John parked the car beside the van and they both got out.  
  
"Heyup, June, how's it been?"  
  
"Not so bad, Paul, how about you?"  
  
"Eh, you know, bit of this, that and the other."  
  
"Paul, this is DS John Boulton, Sun Hill CID, he's my partner on the case."  
  
Paul outstretched his hand. "Nice to meet you mate, I'm Paul"  
  
June said, "John, Paul is the best surveillance operator in England. I always request him on big assignments."  
  
"Ah, right, Paul Hewsin. I've heard of you. Nice to meet you." John was duly impressed. His natural cockiness towards insubordinates was tempered by Paul's reputation.  
  
"Right, June, let's get your wire working." Paul tinkered around with the controls on his console and on her wirebox. "Say something," he said, as he stuck on his headphones.  
  
"Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of their country."  
  
"Loud and clear, June." They heard a car pulling in behind them. "Looks like your chariot's arrived."  
  
They opened up the back door to see a ratty old Ford Fiesta. "Oh joy. The pinnacle of automobile design." June rolled her eyes. "I love these company cars."  
  
"Right, boys, keep an ear out, and if anything happens, call in the calvary. Back in a bit." June jumped out of the back of the van. She gave the delivery driver a hand-slap, "Cheers mate. Keep an eye on my baby, will ya?" The driver walked over to her Alfa and lit a cigarette.  
  
June jumped in the Ford and gave John and Paul a quick wave. "Bye bye!" she exclaimed through the microphone, and sped off. Paul put the console onto speaker, and they heard through June's wire, her tuning the radio. "Come on you sodding thing," she cursed.  
  
"So, how well do you know June?" John asked.  
  
"Pretty well, we've worked on a lot of operations together. She's very professional, but knows not to take the job too seriously. She loves every minute of it. June's one of the nicest people I've ever worked with, and I've never seen her not get a result. She always comes out on top."  
  
John thought back to what June told him in the cafe. "She seems to be very driven."  
  
Paul said, "She is. She demands the best staff, the best equipment and the best performances out of her team. Do you know Sir Steven?"  
  
John said, very surprised, "Sir Steven Croft? I'm afraid not."  
  
Paul smiled, "That's her governor. I'm sure you didn't know that. She doesn't exactly advertise it, as she says that people get uncomfortable around her when they realise that she's one of his officers."  
  
John couldn't believe it. June Gowan took orders from Sir Steven Croft? It wasn't surprising that an FBI agent would be under his command, just that the FBI agent he happened to be dealing with was. Officers who work for Sir Steven often go on to join the MI5, although he was sure they didn't take foreign agents. Still, it was very impressive, and spoke volumes about her ability.  
  
From the sound of things on the wire, June found herself a radio station that was suitable. She was humming along to The Verve's Bittersweet Symphony, after assuring them that she wouldn't sing for them, as she didn't want their ears to bleed. Paul laughed and said, "She's all heart, that girl."  
  
"Right, I'm going in now. Bryant's light is on." June said, turning off the engine. "Stay tuned."  
  
John and Paul were quiet, listening to the sound of June's breathing in the microphone. She knocked on a door. They heard the hinges of the door squeal as it opened.  
  
"Yo, who are you then?"  
  
"Are you Ben Bryant?"  
  
"Who's askin?"  
  
"Dude, I hear you're the main man on this estate."  
  
"I said, who's askin?"  
  
"My name's Leap. I need a bit, man. I'm gettin' ill, please."  
  
"I ain't seen you around before. Who do you normally go to?"  
  
"I get from a geezer named Rourke. He was supposed to be at the club last night but he wasn't there when I showed up. Man please, do you got gear?"  
  
"You're shakin' pretty bad. Come on in."  
  
They heard a door slam.  
  
"What you want then, Leap?"  
  
"I need some smack, man. D'ya have any smack?"  
  
"That be 300. What's a pretty thing like you doing taking this stuff?"  
  
"Long story man. I can't afford no 300 for smack. Rourke would sell me it for 50."  
  
"That fool. No wonder he got wasted!"  
  
"Whatcha mean, he got wasted, man?"  
  
"He got pulled by the filth last night. Damn pig named Boulton. Ever hear of him?" Bryant spat after saying John's name.  
  
"Yeah man, he's one nasty mutha. He nicked my brother for shopliftin'. Ginger haired little tossa he is."  
  
Paul shot a glance over to John whose cheeks were reddening back to his hair colour again.  
  
"That's your man, Leap. He be harassing me all the time. I'd love to stuff a cap up his a-"  
  
June interrupted Bryant, "Man you gonna give me that stuff or what, man, please?"  
  
"I can give you some weed for 50 but no smack for that. 300 for smack."  
  
"Where am I gonna get the money, man? I need money. I ain't got no job, man."  
  
"It may be your lucky day, Leap. I gots a man, right, who can give you a little sideline if you're interested. Takin' over Rourke's patch. Are you interested?"  
  
"Yeah man. I've got a mate of mine who can help as well. Two heads are better than one when it comes to filth like Boulton on your trail."  
  
"True, Leap. True. Whas your mobile number?"  
  
"07591 326 012"  
  
"My man will be in touch. His name's Charlie. And here's some smack, on the house, alright love. See you round' Leap."  
  
"Ah, cheers, man. Thanks!"  
  
They heard the door open and slam again.  
  
Nothing but June's breathing until she got back in the car. "Well, boys, that went well, and we've got some evidence to use on Bryant later on. I'm on my way back. Break open the bubbly."  
  
John swallowed hard and looked at Paul. "She's quite an actress."  
  
* * *  
  
"Cheers for your help, Paul. I'll be in touch soon. Probably tonight or tomorrow, as soon as I know when Spire wants to meet. Have your man deliver two wires next time."  
  
John and June got back in June's car. "What did you think?"  
  
"Well, you're very good. I'm impressed at your result. I guess Sir Steven would demand such abilities."  
  
June shot John a sideways glance, "Did Paul tell you who my governor was?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Looks like Pauly and I will be having a little chat then. Listen, John, don't be intimidated. Who I work for shouldn't matter. It's irrelevant. We're partners on this case, we're working together. As far as this operation is concerned, I may be in charge but I don't see you as an insubordinate. We're equals."  
  
"Did I say I felt inferior to you? No. I'm just surprised that I would get picked, that's all." John wasn't usually subject to inferiority complexes, however he was feeling rather confused about his role in this whole situation.  
  
"And why would you be surprised? You're a good copper. You've got a fine record, and you get results. You are, without a doubt, the best DS I've ever worked with. I have faith in you. Mr. Meadows and Mr. Brownlow have faith in you as well, or else they would have never recommended you. You'll do fine."  
  
June pulled into John's block of flats. "Listen, John. Get your kit together, as you're staying with me tonight. We need to be mobile within a few moment's notice, as soon as we hear from Spire. I know it's short notice, will it be a problem?"  
  
"Not at all. Give me a few minutes."  
  
"Alright. I need to nip these drugs over to the Yard anyway. I'll give you a call when I'm on my way back to pick you up." 


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7  
  
John couldn't believe his day. His head was spinning. He quickly got a rucksack out, and threw some clothes and his washbag in. John checked the messages on his answerphone, however there were none. Quickly he sorted through his post - all bills, which could wait. He took his trash out to the bins at the back of the house, and poured himself a glass of water. The phone rang. It was June.  
  
"John, I'm on my way back, are you ready?"  
  
"Yes June, I'm packed."  
  
"Pack for at least 2-3 days. I don't know how long this thing will need to go on for."  
  
"Alright. Talk to you in a few."  
  
John grabbed a few more pairs of boxers and some more socks. He barely had any time to himself to think. Now he was on his way to a sleepover at June's house. It's not that he really minded staying at her place, it was just bizarre the way things seemed to stop and start in this case. John grabbed his scruffy clothes out of the bottom drawer of his wardrobe.  
  
'Just in case I need to play a junkie,' he thought to himself.  
  
He made sure all the lights were off, and turned down the heating. Her car horn sounded from outside. Grabbing his rucksack, he locked the door behind him, and ran down the steps.  
  
"Hello there, hop in." June greeted him with a friendly smile. "Got the place locked up?"  
  
"Yes, everything's in order."  
  
"Good. I need to stop off at a convenience store and get some milk and bread. I ran out this morning. What do you like for breakfast?"  
  
"I don't usually eat breakfast. Black coffee."  
  
"Oh, John, you've got to eat breakfast. No wonder everyone thinks you're crabby."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Nothing, nevermind. Just joking." She grinned at him.  
  
"Ha bloody ha. Anyway, tell me, what's the plan when Spire rings?"  
  
"Well, we're both going to go together. Once we get to meet Spire, area is going to obbo his movements, so we'll have a trace on where he gets his supplies. We know Spire is one of Escoverda's men. Bryant isn't technically working for Escoverda, but could be buying his supplies off of them. We've seen this MO before. A dealer tosses junkie runners towards the cartel, their contact supplies them with the drugs. The contact gets his supplies from the controllers, who in turn are under orders from Escoverda himself. The runners set up shop in the legitimate front-ends that Escoverda sets up, various pubs and clubs. They come in with the drugs, do deals and the profits go directly back to Escoverda via the club managers. When a runner gets arrested in one of the clubs, the owners can claim innocence, claiming that it's a one-off. Escoverda is a silent partner in places like Switcher's Night Club."  
  
They pulled into a parking space. "Be right back, John."  
  
John took in the plan and turned it about in his head. 'It sounds simple enough,' he thought to himself. 'I should have no problem doing this undercover job. If only I can keep her at an arm's length.' It was hard enough knowing that she had feelings for him. The thought of sleeping in the same house as her was starting to have an undesired effect on him.  
  
'If only she wasn't so... her, I might be able to concentrate!' John definitely felt like he was not entirely focused lately, and it was due to her intoxicating presence. 'Why did I have to meet her now, of all times, and why can't I have her now? Sometimes life just isn't fair.' John felt a tinge of worry that, if he didn't manage to get his libido under control, he would be a potential risk to the operation. June, herself, was proving to be an unwitting distraction. Where was the John Boulton fire? The anger and the drive were melting away. He didn't feel as if he had to prove anything around her. He just had to be himself. She truly brought out the best in him, which, unfortunately, wasn't the best for catching criminals. He was feared for his temper, respected for his aloof manner, and people knew that he was not to be trifled with. It was right now that he needed these skills the most, and for the first time in his life, he felt less and less capable of providing them. All he wanted to do was to grab June, hold and kiss her, and whisk her away somewhere where they could live happily ever after.  
  
'Wake up John,' he berated himself angrily. 'This isn't one of the Grimm's Fairy Tales. This is Sun Hill, London, and there are no happily ever afters here. This is the real world. It's a fine time to suddenly locate my heart. What am I going to do when I'm faced with Escoverda, tell him that it's alright, we all make mistakes and let him off with a caution?'  
  
All of a sudden the driver's door opened and June bounced back in the car. "Alright, John?"  
  
John jumped from the sudden intrusion. "Yeah, June. Just lost in thought."  
  
"You know, for the toughest, meanest sonofabitch copper in London, you sure act like a pussycat sometimes."  
  
"Who paid me all of those lovely complements?" John smiled to himself.  
  
"Only everyone I've ever spoken to about you. You came with quite a reputation, which is why I selected you. Somehow I get the feeling that you're on good behaviour around me."  
  
"June. it's because I fancy you. You have me so spinning that I feel like I'm going soft. I'm scared, June." It was hard for him to admit that.  
  
"John, if you don't mind me asking, what made you become a copper in the first place?"  
  
"Can we get back to yours first, before I answer that?"  
  
"Sure. We're almost there."  
  
John never enjoyed thinking about this story, let alone telling it. No one really knew the full story, however, something made him want to tell her.  
  
They pulled into June's driveway, got out of the car, and went upstairs. Keying off the alarm, she set her bag down and removed her denim jacket.  
  
"Would you like a glass of wine, John?" she asked?  
  
"Sure."  
  
June went into the kitchen, putting away the milk and bread. She got out a bottle of Pouilly Fumé and poured both of them a glass.  
  
John gave her lounge a closer look. She had some lovely surrealist art hanging on her walls, probably Salvador Dalí. There were some framed photographs on her mantle above the Victorian fireplace.  
  
"June, who are the people in the photographs?" John asked, taking a glass of wine from her hand.  
  
June pointed to an old photograph, from the early 70's. "This is me with my mom and dad."  
  
She pointed to a few others, "This was my high school graduation, university graduation and FBI academy graduation."  
  
"This one is me with my two best friends back home."  
  
She picked up the last one, sighing gently, she said, "And this was Thomas and my engagement photo. It's common in the states to announce engagements in the local newspapers. We had the photo taken and were going to announce it after we finished with the Escoverda case."  
  
John studied the photograph. Thomas was a tall bloke with long black hair tied back. He was very thin, thinner than June, who was a big girl. He wasn't smiling, but he looked like he was a very kind person, and just by his expression, John could tell that he loved June very much. June, on the other hand, was positively beaming, her love for Thomas unmasked. They were not a conventional looking couple, however they looked beautiful together.  
  
"I know that the rest of the world doesn't understand the death penalty in the US, however, please be assured that it gives me great comfort to know that the mole responsible for Thomas and Gene's murders is now rotting on death row."  
  
John wanted to put his arm around her and comfort her, however, he felt that nothing he could say or do would be welcome. He knew all too well the sort of pain she felt.  
  
"Are you ready to tell me your story yet?" June smiled at him.  
  
"Alright."  
  
"Have a seat." They sat next to each other on the large sofa.  
  
John sighed, letting the memories come back to him. 


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8  
  
"I grew up in Liverpool as the youngest of three brothers. I idolised my two older brothers, Mike and Jim. Even though I was the youngest, they still let me go along with them, and treated me as an equal. The three of us were mad, bad and dangerous to know. No one messed with the Boulton brothers.  
  
"Mam and da both worked, my mam was a nurse and my da was a car mechanic. We lived in row houses, on the corner, so our garden was a bit bigger than everyone else's. We weren't poor, we were better off than most, actually, however we weren't, by any stretch of the imagination, rich. We went to the local school which was at the end of the road. We knew everyone, and everyone knew us, by name or by reputation. It was a lot of fun, growing up like that.  
  
June could almost picture in her head three flame-haired little boys, as hard as nails, causing trouble and mayhem wherever they went. She smiled inwardly to herself.  
  
John continued, "Mam worked shifts, obviously. Dad was more regular hours, but he was on emergency standby. Us boys were left to our own devices quite often. It didn't bother us, though. We could charm the suppers out of our mate's mothers, and even though both parents worked, we knew we were loved.  
  
"It started when Mike and then Jim went on to comprehensive but I was still in primary for two more years. We weren't together as much anymore, as the comprehensive was a mile away, and they got the bus to school. Because Mike was older than Jim, he was there first, and made lots of friends. When Jim came along, Mike didn't really have time for him because, by now, Mike's friends were more important to him than his two little brothers. It was hard on me, as I was used to having Mike and Jim around to help me fight my battles. Me on my own, I was vulnerable and had to learn to defend myself from school bullies, which I was more than capable of doing. I started to make friends as well, with people in my own classes. Jim, on the other hand, never quite fit in. Mike and I were moving on, making friends and becoming our own people, but Jim wanted it to be just the three of us again. He started hanging out with some dodgy characters, who would smoke and drink, and occasionally shoplift from the local stores. Mam and dad were going spare. They couldn't figure out why Jim was always in trouble, while Mike and I stayed relatively alright. Jim became more sullen and withdrawn from the rest of us. Mike and I both tried to speak to him but, by now, he wanted no part of either of us.  
  
"Mike had his own room, but Jim and I shared a room. One day I was looking for one of my schoolbooks when I came across a bag of marijuana. I had a pretty good idea what it was, and I presumed it was Jim's. I asked him about it and he lashed out at me, telling me to mind my own business and stop going through his stuff. We got into a punch up. Mike heard the noises from the bedroom and came to investigate. Jim had me on the ground and was pummelling me. Out of the three of us, Mike was the biggest and strongest. He grabbed Jim and threw him off of me. Mike took the drugs and flushed them down the loo. Nothing more was said of the incident, and of course we didn't tell mam and dad, but we knew that Jim was in serious trouble. We had no idea how to help him, and couldn't approach him.  
  
"Shortly after that incident Mike and I followed Jim after school one day. We saw him and his friends smoking and drinking. They had some spray cans and painted graffiti along the side of the school. One of the guys lit up a joint and they were passing it around. We knew what it was because we smelled the weed. They sat down in the grass behind the school and passed joints. Some girls came up and joined them. Mike and I gave up and went home after a while, as they didn't seem to be doing anything else.  
  
"That night, Jim didn't come home until late. This wasn't unusual. However, around 12:30 at night, we had a knock at the door. Apparently, a gang of youths had vandalised the school, and someone fitting Jim's description was seen leaving the scene of the crime. They took Jim away for questioning, however one of the girls he hung around with gave him and alibi, saying that Jim was over her house at the alleged time of the crime.  
  
"When Jim was 16 he dropped out of school. He said that school was for 'idiots' like Mike and I. Jim claimed he had the 'real answer to making money' and it wasn't in some arsing schoolbook. By now, mam and dad had pretty much washed their hands clean of Jim. No one could do anything with him. He packed up and moved out one day, while Mike and I were at sixth form. None of us had any idea where he went.  
  
"Shortly after that, Jim was arrested for trying to sell drugs. Because he was a minor, he was imprisoned for three years. It wasn't long after he got out that he died, of a drug overdose. It was when Jim died that I decided I wanted to be a policeman, to stop people like Jim from hurting others, and from turning more people into dealers and users. For me, nothing is more satisfying than putting a dealer away. I couldn't stop my brother, but I can stop others from turning out like him."  
  
It was obvious that this memory gave John a lot of pain. June poured him some more wine, and took his hand.  
  
"John, you use that pain as your weapon. In your line of work, it is your greatest asset. That is your drive, your determination. But it is also your downfall. You are so used to anger and pain, that you don't know how to handle pleasure when it comes along. It throws you for a loop, makes your mind stop working as you want it to. There are two sides to John Boulton, the hard angry tough copper and the vulnerable side. You're afraid to love, but your heart embraces it in spite of yourself. You need to be gentler to yourself, and realise that Jim's problems were through no fault of your own. The fact that you moved on with your life, as did Mike, were completely normal actions when kids are growing up apart. Your close brotherly bond was shattered by the inevitable passing of time. There was nothing you could have done to change what happened. You are not responsible for Jim. You are responsible for John.  
  
"Everyone goes their own way, and so they should. Don't be afraid to make friends with those around you, or to be close to people. Keep that anger and fire reserved for when it's necessary, but it doesn't have to be the only aspect of yourself. Let the world see you for who you really are, beneath the pain and anger. I think you'll be surprised at yourself, and your mind will be better suited for your police work."  
  
He looked at her, sipping his wine. She made a lot of sense. Still, he felt uncomfortable by her insight, which was proving to be closer to the mark than what he anticipated. He decided to deflect the sombre mood with a joke.  
  
"I didn't know you brought me back here to psychoanalyse me, June," John said with a smile.  
  
"I didn't. The main point I want to make is that, I know you have feelings for me, but hold onto that anger, now more than ever. I'm just a colleague. I'm the same to you as Kerry Holmes or Cass Rickman. I work alongside you. If it would make it any easier for you, I'll start to find new and exciting ways to annoy you."  
  
John suppressed a laugh.  
  
"That won't be necessary. You're already annoying enough, in your own special way."  
  
"Aw, gee, John. I can take everything else you throw at me, but when you break out the complements, I start to go weak in the knees!" June fanned herself with her hand, and acted like she was going to faint.  
  
"Oi you! Stoppit!"  
  
"You stop it!"  
  
John grabbed a pillow and lobbed it at her. She caught it and used it to whack him over his head. Soon enough they had fallen off of the couch and onto the floor, whacking each other with pillows, almost out of breath from laughing. June tumbled backwards and John rolled on top of her, pinning her arms to the floor.  
  
"Ok, DS Boulton, you've got your prisoner, what are you going to do with her?" June asked.  
  
John looked down at her. June's hair was tousled and messed up, and she still had on remnants of the tart makeup she wore for the obbo. She looked as sexy now as she did during the day, when she was all business suits and sensible hair. He ran his hand along her cheek and looked deep in her eyes.  
  
The tension between them was almost unbearable. They both knew what was going to happen, as much as they both tried to fight it.  
  
"We shouldn't be doing this. It's not right," June said softly.  
  
"I know it's not right, but you can't deny that it feels that way." John smiled at her. The sight of his eyes crinkling at the sides, shining with his warm smile was too much for June. She embraced him, and they melted together in a passionate kiss.  
  
"Whatever happens tonight, John, tomorrow.." June whispered in his ear as he kissed her neck, softly.  
  
John pulled away from her slightly so he could look in her eyes. "Let tomorrow take care of itself, tonight is ours."  
  
The candlelight flickered from the candelabra on top of the piano. A warm breeze blew in from the open window, as June and John, individually, found true happiness for the first time in ages, within each other.  
  
* * *  
  
Very early the next morning, John woke up with a start. He was disorientated, not recognising his surroundings in the twilight. He felt someone next to him, warm, breathing softly, mumbling incomprehensible babble. The events of the night before, confusing and wonderful within themselves, came flooding back to him. He smiled to himself, and slid back under the warm blankets. John put a protective arm around June, and managed to drift back to sleep, happy and contented.  
  
John woke up to a steaming hot cup of black coffee, and two large green eyes staring at him. He almost screamed, but then remembered, again, where he was, and what he was doing there.  
  
June giggled at his obvious confusion. "Morning, sleepyhead. Sleep well?"  
  
John stifled a yawn and rubbed the grogginess from his eyes. "First bit of decent sleep I've had in ages." He smiled at her. Even in the morning she looked sexy, wearing a long men's shirt, hair tied back in a loose ponytail.  
  
"Same here, to be perfectly honest. Which, I think, speaks volumes for the both of us." June smiled at John and sipped her tea.  
  
John stretched his well-muscled arms and picked up his coffee.  
  
June sat on the floor and started doing yoga stretches. She caught John staring at her out of the corner of her eye.  
  
"It's the only exercise I have time for. I find it helps somewhat."  
  
"I see," he said with a big grin. "Mind if I join you?"  
  
"Not at all. What can you do?"  
  
John laid down next to her on the floor and started doing push-ups. "When I was a kid my record was 100."  
  
"Oh, very impressive. What's your record now?"  
  
"15-20 on a good day."  
  
"Beats me, I doubt I could even do one."  
  
They finished exercising in silence, the only sound coming from John's panting from exertion, and June's controlled breathing.  
  
June got off of the floor and sat on the bed. "John we need to talk about last night."  
  
"What about it?" He sat next to her, nuzzling her neck and kissing her cheek.  
  
June gently pushed him away.  
  
"Last night was not what I wanted to happen. I don't regret it, but we've got to maintain a professional relationship, first and foremost. I like you John, I really truly do, but I have too much to risk by getting involved with you seriously. Besides, I'm not over Thomas, I don't know when I ever will be. I can't deal with a serious relationship. Do you understand?"  
  
All John could think of was going for a shower. After all, he was sweaty after his exercise. So was she.  
  
"What was the question?"  
  
"John I'm serious! Listen to me. That was a one-night thing. I can't do that again. It's hard enough to focus on the case without getting clouded emotions. I won't be worrying about losing another person whom I love to Escoverda. I am not going to lose another lover in the line of duty. Not on one of my operations. Is that understood?"  
  
John sighed. She was back to business again. "Yes June. I understand."  
  
"Good. Hit the shower and get some kit on. We've got a big day ahead of us." 


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9  
  
It was 9:30 PM. June and John had gotten the call from Charles Spire during the afternoon, saying that he had a job for them. After donning their 'junkie-chic' undercover gear, they were driving the same old clapped out Ford Fiesta. June had told Paul that a "nick on her car was a nick from his ass" if anyone touched her Alfa while she was working undercover.  
  
They were waiting underneath Basal Bridge for five minutes before an older man, in his mid-40's, walked up.  
  
"Are you Leap?"  
  
"Yeah man," June said, "Are you tha contact?"  
  
"Yeah. Who's your friend?" Spire asked.  
  
"This is John, right, he's my mate. He's gonna help me. He watch my back, I handle his front, you know what I mean?"  
  
John said, "Alright?"  
  
Spire gave him the once over, and instantly disliked this short-arse ginger git.  
  
"You need to pick yourself better mates, Leap. Anyway, here's your case full of gear. Take it to the Bear and Banister tonight and unload it. Give the money to the barman at the end of the evening and he'll give you your cuts. Understand?"  
  
"Right, man."  
  
"And watch your back. The filth got my last boy. I'd hate to see you two disappeared, if you know what I mean."  
  
"Cheers man, when will we see you again?"  
  
"Next time a suitcase lands in my lap. Now piss off."  
  
Spire turned and walked away.  
  
* * *  
  
Back at the van, they opened the suitcase. It was chock full of ecstasy. They substituted the pills with placebos and June told John how to proceed.  
  
"Take these to the pub and sell them. No one will come back on you, if they do, offer to buy them a pint and give them another one free. I'll be listening and if you get any trouble I'll come in and help. Area's covering Spire right now, tracing his whereabouts."  
  
John got into the Fiesta and drove off. Paul followed in the van, and June took her own car.  
  
On the drive to the Bear and Banister, John started sweating profusely. He normally was a bit nervous before an op, but this time it was even worse. He slept with June last night, and she wanted to push it under the carpet, like it never happened. He wasn't sure if he could deal with that. He wanted her, badly, and wasn't used to being refused. He wouldn't give up.  
  
Focus.  
  
'I hate catering to these junkies,' he thought to himself. 'I'm going to ask all of their names to get them on tape, so I know who to keep tabs on, once I'm off of this operation. Maybe it will give me a few leads of my own to follow up later on.' John smiled to himself. Getting an inside track on the local junkies, which he would then turn into his future snouts, grasses and people to nick, was about the only benefit he could discern from sitting in a smoke-filled pub flogging fake E's to idiots. He supposed it was all part of the investigation, to keep a cover, but he didn't like it. He wished June was there to keep him company. He may not be able to get close to her, as he wanted, but at least she was good company.  
  
Entering in the pub with the suitcase was easy enough. They had a doorman, common for Saturday nights. He went to the bar and bought himself a pint of Coke. The barman said to him, after handing over his change, "At last orders, go in the men's toilets and I'll meet you in there. If you don't sell it all, what's left over comes out of your cut, got it?"  
  
'That's the beauty of being a dealer. Great pay scheme and fantastic benefits,' John thought bitterly to himself. Even though he was doing police work, it felt wrong to him, like he was betraying everything he stood for. He hated it. The fact he was selling fakes gave him no comfort. The idiots who bought off of him, would probably find someone else to buy off of, once they discovered that his were fakes. Undercover work was never his strong suit, anyway. He liked to be the one leading the investigation, not working for someone else's' investigation, which was why he was glad when he was promoted to Sergeant prior to coming to Sun Hill. Once you change rank, people still think of you under your old rank, and it's hard to gain respect from your old colleagues.  
  
At the end of the evening he managed to flog most of the contents of his case. No one, as far as he could tell, was actually taking the fake E's in the pub. He assumed they were holding on to them for whatever club they ended up in afterwards. The bell for last orders rang, and a few more people approached him for a sale. He managed to put off most people that approached him by his condescending attitude and obvious disdain for his 'customers'. He packed up the contents of his case and went into the men's toilets, locking himself in a cubicle.  
  
The manager came into the toilets. He tapped on the cubicle door. "Red, are you in there?"  
  
By now John had had enough of this. The insult was just too much to bear at this point and he lost it. The door to the cubicle flew open and John lunged at the guy, knocking him to the floor. He grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and pinned him to the wall.  
  
"Don't ever call me Red. Do you understand?"  
  
"Steady on, mate! I didn't mean anything by it. Don't hit me!"  
  
Just then the door to the gent's flew open and June came in.  
  
"Sorry I'm late, luvva, I got caught up." June looked at the man. "What's he done, then?"  
  
"Nothing. Nevermind." John glared viciously at the manager and looked at June.  
  
June went over to John and gave him a big sloppy kiss. "Who are you?" She eyed the manager.  
  
"I'm the manager of this pub, Tony Woods. Who the bloody hell are you?"  
  
"Name's Leap. Him and I are t'gether." She jabbed a finger in John's direction. "I know what his game is, is this where we cash in our chips and get our prize for the evening man?"  
  
"Yeah, let's get on with it then."  
  
June took the suitcase from John and handed it to Woods.  
  
"How did we do?" she asked, as Woods rooted through it.  
  
"You only sold half. You didn't make any profit for yourself tonight. Next time, Leap, you should flog. Your man there is too scary, puts the punters off."  
  
"Yeah, right, well, I'll try not to be so busy next time. C'mon luv."  
  
June took John by the hand and they walked out.  
  
* * *  
  
Back in the van June poured John a hot cup of coffee from the kettle.  
  
"You did well John. You didn't make a profit, which was good, and you didn't flog too many fake E's, which mean that probably no one is looking to settle a score with you. Well done. Only thing, don't have a crack at people unnecessarily. I know, he was a right git but he's not worth it."  
  
"It just winds me up, acting like a bloody dealer. Even though they're fakes, I still feel like I'm supporting their habits. And when that pillock started with me I lost it."  
  
"I know, John, which is why I came in. You're very lucky he wasn't armed. Most of Escoverda's men are usually armed."  
  
"Good work Paul, John, we got a result. Let's call it a night. Next move will be when we hear from Area that Spire's got a suitcase. Our target will switch then to Spire's supplier, who will be one of Escoverda's bosses, if not Escoverda himself. Any questions?"  
  
"Yeah, what happens when Spire phones again?" John asked.  
  
"Leap died tonight, from an overdose and you won't be working for him. That's what you say the next time he calls."  
  
"Keep the mobiles on. Paul, very soon we'll be getting a visit from SO19, to provide backup for John when he goes in to take down Escoverda. SO6 will be issuing the warrant and will pick up the case from there. They will be the ones who will extradite him back to the US to face further charges, including murder."  
  
"Good job everyone, goodnight. John, let's go."  
  
June and John left the van, which drove off. They got back into her car and pulled out.  
  
"You can go home tonight, John. It's highly unlikely Spire will make a move tonight or tomorrow. Do you want to meet up tomorrow afternoon and have a brainstorming session?"  
  
"Sure, come over mine."  
  
"Alright then. Around 2:00?"  
  
"Yeah, that's fine."  
  
June didn't have to drive very far to John's flat. She pulled in the driveway and stopped.  
  
"Good work tonight, John. See you tomorrow."  
  
John leaned over to give her a kiss but she put a hand on his shoulder. "No, John. No."  
  
"Why not?" John agreed that they probably shouldn't sleep together while the case was going on, but he couldn't understand why she didn't want to be affectionate, especially seeing as she kissed him right in front of that worm Woods.  
  
"What happened last night has truly affected me. All day long I've been plagued with guilt, thoughts of Thomas, memories. He was the last man I slept with, and he was also the first. I broke all of my rules last night, John. I've got a lot going on right now, and I don't need to be further confused. Go on. Go on home."  
  
John was truly crestfallen. He couldn't believe her! Running hot and cold like a leaky faucet! He was so confused, and needed time alone.  
  
"June, can we give tomorrow a miss?"  
  
"Sure John. See you Monday back at the nick."  
  
"Ok, June. Goodnight."  
  
"Goodnight, John." 


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10  
  
John was lounging around his flat, tidying up and watching TV He had just got back from a long run to clear his mind, but found that the exertion didn't help. Neither did a hot shower. Neither did the shot of whiskey he had last night before going to bed. This case, the events, June, it was too much stress. John wasn't used to not getting what he wanted, and what he wanted, right now, was June Gowan. She was perfect - charming, witty, beautiful, intelligent and absolutely the best person he ever met. He treasured every moment, every memory of their night together.  
  
'Women like that are beyond the likes of me.' He indulged in feeling sorry for himself, something which he didn't allow himself to feel often. Then the bitterness set in.  
  
'Who the hell does she think she is, does she think I'm not good enough for her? All this "feel sorry for me, sorry John but I'll never love again" garbage is just a line. The truth is that she doesn't want me but doesn't know how to say so. She used me.' He started to get angry.  
  
'Good. That's better. I don't need her. She's my superior officer on this case, and that's it. The case will end and I'll never see her again and that's good. I can't wait to see the back of her.'  
  
John smiled at himself, the anger made that lie all the more powerful, and almost believable.  
  
Just then, the phone rang. It was Don Beech.  
  
"Hey mate, it's Don here. Fancy a game of poker tonight?"  
  
"Who's all in?"  
  
"Me, Dunc, Rod and we need a fourth person. You up for it, or do you have a date with your little Special Agent Sexpot?"  
  
"You must be joking. Yeah, I'm in. Where?"  
  
"Duncan's place. Shona's out with her posh mates so he's got the place to himself. We're meeting around 4:30."  
  
"Right, see you there."  
  
"Later, mate"  
  
* * *  
  
John arrived at Duncan Lennox's house around 4:45. He got passed a beer and settled into a night of serious male bonding.  
  
"Phowarr, hasn't Kerry been in a foul mood lately. Wonder what her problem is." Rod said, rolling his eyes.  
  
Don and John laughed quietly while Duncan shot Rod a look, "Be nice, Rod. She's a colleague."  
  
John affected a high-pitch voice, "But Guuuuv, but Guvvvv... If I hear her whine one more time I'm seriously going to strangle her."  
  
Rod joined in, "But Guvvvv, I can't go out and work today, I've got to wash my hair."  
  
This was accompanied by more laughs around the table.  
  
"Speaking of ladies," Don said, "How's your FBI friend, John? She's a bit of alright."  
  
"Oh yeah, how'd you get to be so lucky, John? I'd give anything to be working with her. She's quite a fit bird," Rod chimed in.  
  
"Guys just leave it out. She's alright I guess. I don't fancy her or anything."  
  
"Yeah bloody right, John. I saw you with her. You want her." Rod said, smiling  
  
"Now now, if John doesn't want to tell us all the details, that's his decision. I happen to know he stayed overnight at her flat on Friday night." Don grinned and leaned back in his seat.  
  
John glared at Don, "Whatever Don. You believe what you want, mate."  
  
Rod was about to make a smart comment, but John's look froze his mouth.  
  
Duncan put down his cards. "I'm gonna order some pizzas. Is pepperoni ok?"  
  
A unanimous murmur went up from the table. Rod stood up and went to get more beers.  
  
"So tell me John. What's she like then?" Don elbowed John jokingly.  
  
"Typical Yank." John shuffled the deck of cards.  
  
"Funny she should come to work at Sun Hill. Inter-Branch Compliance, was it? Apparently there's no such programme going on right now in the yard, and if there was, they wouldn't send a Yank to do it."  
  
"What are you saying Don?" John eyed him suspiciously.  
  
"I'm saying that, I know she's conducting an investigation and you're working with her. I just don't know what it's about yet. Care to fill in the details?"  
  
"No, I don't, actually."  
  
"I did some checking up on her. Apparently she was responsible for two officers getting murdered in some drug cartel bust that went pear-shaped. A real bloodbath. But that's not the best bit."  
  
"Yeah?" John acted like he wasn't interested, even though he was.  
  
"The head of the cartel went after her. Killed her family. Tried to kill her. They sent her over here to protect her. This guy goes by a lot of aliases, Ajax Handen, Pedro Escoverda, are the two most common ones he uses. When they sent her away, he disappeared. One of the officers killed was her fiancé, as well. "  
  
"How do you know all this, Don?" John was suddenly very interested.  
  
"I've got my sources, John." Don touched his finger to his nose. "Just play it safe with this one, she's damaged goods, my man. And it could end up getting you killed."  
  
Duncan and Rod returned to the table. John was dealer and the game resumed. John was very quiet for the rest of the evening. If, what Don said was true, it explained a lot about June, and why she was trying to keep him at an arm's length. Losing a brother was hard, but losing everyone was probably a nightmare.  
  
* * *  
  
As John laid in bed that night, another thought hit him, so hard that he couldn't sleep for the rest of the night. He started sweating and felt his stomach lurch.  
  
'If Escoverda is here, in the UK, it means that he also knows she's here, waiting for her to strike, which is probably why he set up business over here. If this operation is blown, she's dead. And so am I.' 


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11  
  
June's mobile rang just as she was pulling into Sun Hill at 8:30 AM. "We've found Spire's suppliers. He goes to Old Jubilee Dock and picks up a suitcase. Some other men do as well. A car has pulled up. An IC2 and an IC1 have gotten out.  
  
"Tell me about the IC2." June said.  
  
"He's well dressed, black hair, speaking Spanish."  
  
"Follow him. Whatever you do, don't lose him. Call me as soon as you know his whereabouts."  
  
June ran into the nick and upstairs to CID. She saw Jack Meadows in the hall, "Have you seen John Boulton?"  
  
"Not here yet, June. Is everything OK?"  
  
"No. Jack, there's been a change of plans. I need John Boulton now."  
  
She ran into CID. Kerry, Rod and Don were at their desks. "When John Boulton comes in, tell him to call me. It's absolutely urgent. No time to lose. Cheers."  
  
The three of them looked at each other and shrugged, then resumed their work. June ran out of the office and down the steps, punching up John's number on her mobile.  
  
"This is John, you know what to do."  
  
"John, it's June. Call me. It's important."  
  
A blue Ford Focus pulled into Sun Hill. It was John. She ran over to it and opened his door.  
  
"Change of plans, come with me now."  
  
She grabbed him by the arm and almost yanked him out of the car.  
  
"Steady on, June."  
  
"No time to lose, get in John! Drive for me!" She tossed him the keys.  
  
John started up the car. June was already punching numbers into her mobile. "Where are we going, June?"  
  
"Old Jubilee Wharf."  
  
She put the mobile to her ear, "Paul, it's me. We've found him. We're meeting at Old Jubilee Wharf. Now. Change of plans. Bring Dave."  
  
She hung up. John looked at her, "Do you mind telling me what's going on?"  
  
"Escoverda came in to meet a shipment of drugs at Old Jubilee Docks. We're not going to mess around. We've got evidence now, and don't need to put you at risk doing more undercover work. We're going to take him down, blazing guns-style, as we should have done before."  
  
She called up her boss, "Guv, I need you to authorise SO6 and SO19's involvement. We've got him, and are going to take him unprepared. We're meeting at Old Jubilee Wharf within the hour, and then will proceed as a unit to Escoverda's location. We've got evidence - he arrived to greet the drugs shipment that just came in, and took some suitcases with him. Bring the warrant."  
  
June received a call, "Yankee Tango 39 8 Juliet Echo, a black Lexus, registered to a Michael Step, cheers."  
  
"We know what car he's in. Area's following it to his home." June said to John. We're gonna do this, John. We're gonna get him this time.  
  
"June, I know. I know about your family. I know he tried to kill you. I know."  
  
"John, shut up, I don't know what you're talking about and I don't have time do deal with that right now." June said angrily. "I don't know who told you that stuff but I don't want to talk about it, do you understand?"  
  
John nodded in ascent and was quiet.  
  
"We're here, anyway."  
  
June and John got out of the car. Paul was already there, with another guy. John assumed it was Dave. The SO 19 ARV was arriving as well.  
  
"Right everyone, we'll wait until Red and Grey units, SO6, and Sir Steven Croft, Deputy Assistant Commissioner arrive before the briefing. Deputy Assistant Commissioner Croft is formally in charge, however I am issuing orders. He is here to take charge if anything goes wrong."  
  
Red and Grey followed each other in. A black Vauxhall Omega pulled up shortly afterwards.  
  
Deputy Assistant Commissioner Croft, you know Paul and Dave. This is DS John Boulton, Sun Hill.  
  
"It's nice to meet you. June says you're doing sterling work." He shook John's hand.  
  
"It's an honour to meet you, Sir." John smiled. "I'm just doing my best."  
  
"When this is all over, I will make sure your performance is noted, and a reference will go in your file."  
  
"Thank you very much, Sir." John was astounded. "I don't know what to say."  
  
"From what June says, you've earned it."  
  
A large police van pulled up alongside them. SO6 International Assistance Unit.  
  
"Right everyone gather around," June said. "Formal briefing to commence. Target is one Pedro Escoverda, otherwise known as Ajax Handen and possibly Michael Step. We are going to take him at his home. Red, I want your team around the back and sides. Grey I want you towards the front. I want both teams hidden until I give the command. Once I give the order, gain entry using whatever means possible.  
  
"SO6 once Red and Grey have neutralised the position, I want you to go in and bring Escoverda out. From then on, he's your prisoner. From there SO6, you can move in and take over the investigation, including the searches.  
  
"John, you will go in first. You will knock on the door and ask to speak to Michael Step. The reason you need to see him is because a car registered to him has been stolen. You should see an IC2, Latin accent. If not, keep an eye out for an IC2. You've seen the photograph. When he has been identified as being within the house, I want you to ask to use the toilet. That will be our signal to go in. You will lock yourself in the toilet and not come out until the all clear. You will be armed in case of emergency. Also you will be wearing Kevlar and, of course, a wire.  
  
"Are there any questions?"  
  
No one had any questions.  
  
"Right, we're waiting from a call from Area who's doing the obbo. As soon as he's at home they will call and we will proceed. We sit tight until then."  
  
"John, get your gear on in the van. Dave will kit you out."  
  
June went to speak with Sir Steven. SO 6 and SO 19 got back into their vehicles. John got into the van with Paul and Dave. He was beginning to get extremely nervous. He had to go in first, he was at risk. At least he was going to be well covered.  
  
"How's your gut holding up?" Dave was an American. He strapped the wire to John and covered him with Kevlar.  
  
"Not too well."  
  
"You oughta be scared shitless. Escoverda is one nasty dude. I was there at June's last run in with him."  
  
"Dave, cut it out, mate." Paul gave Dave an annoyed look.  
  
"I'm just joshing with you man. Seriously, you'll be alright."  
  
John thought back to what June said about other Americans, and, now more than ever, it dawned on him about what she meant.  
  
"Say something in the wire."  
  
"Septic tanks are wankers," John said, sarcastically.  
  
Paul burst out laughing but tried to control himself. "Loud and clear, John."  
  
Dave said, "Yeah whatever, I'm going to get a sandwich," obviously not understanding the rhyming slang, and he slunk out of the van.  
  
"Listen, John, don't let Dave get to you. He's a Fed, like June, only he's not as. what's the word. worldly. He's good though, and was a member of June's US team, which is why she has him in on her major operations. Just ignore him. I usually do."  
  
June climbed in the van. "How's it going. Where's Dave?"  
  
"Dave went for a sandwich," said Paul.  
  
"That total complete git, how dare he go for a sandwich when he bloody well knows we're on alert. That does it, he's sacked, I don't need this. This is his last mission."  
  
"I don't like him much, June," said John.  
  
"Nobody does," she sighed, "but he's good, when he can be bothered to do his job."  
  
She sat down and poured herself some tea from the kettle.  
  
"How are you holding up, John?"  
  
"As good as can be expected, given that I'm going to be target fodder."  
  
"No you're bloody not. You're going to be safe and come out of this, do you understand?" June was noticeably stressed and titchy.  
  
Her mobile rang, "Yes. Ok right, we're moving in, ETA 11:00."  
  
She picked up her radio. "All units, 1291 West Crompton Drive. Move in. Proceed in this order. Comm unit, Red, Grey, ARV, SO6 van. We move now."  
  
Just then the door opened up and Dave got back in, "Did I miss anything?"  
  
"Yes, we are leaving now, and were going to go without you. Anticipate a reprimand when this is finished." June said angrily.  
  
June reached over and squeezed John's hand. He could only imagine what must be going through her head right now.  
  
"Aw, June, don't break your bra straps over it," Dave said.  
  
June slapped him, hard, so his nose would bleed. "That's Special Agent Gowan to you, and I've had enough of your shit. How dare you make such a rude and sexist comment to me? Shut up and don't speak unless it's pertinent to the job. That's an order. And throw that sandwich out, no eating on the job."  
  
The passengers in the van were silent for the rest of the journey. John thought he heard June whispering to herself, and he listened closer. She was praying. 


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12  
  
John approached the front door. It was a big house, nicely done out. He knew there were armed SO 19 men on the roof, and all over it. He knew SO 6, and the Comm van were around the corner. It didn't make things any easier.  
  
He rang the doorbell and waited. A man came to the door, an IC2. This was Escoverda, he knew it.  
  
"Are you Michael Step?"  
  
"Yes, may I help you?" Michael Step was a large Latino man, identical to the man in the photograph. It was Escoverda.  
  
"I'm Detective Sergeant Boulton from Sun Hill. I've came to investigate a stolen vehicle that was recovered last night. It was registered in your name."  
  
"None of my cars have been stolen." He went to shut the door.  
  
"Just a moment please, Mr. Step, may I have a word with you?"  
  
He rolled his eyes and sighed, "If you must. Come in."  
  
"May I use your toilet, Mr. Step?"  
  
"Bloody police. Yes, second door on left."  
  
John heard the crash coming from the back of the house. He also felt a hand on his shoulder and something cold and hard on the back of his neck, at the base of his skull. "You're going to regret this, cop."  
  
"FREEZE! Put the gun down. Put the gun down. You're surrounded. Put the gun down!"  
  
Escoverda glanced around him and realised that there was a gun pointed directly at the back of him, and at the front of him. Armed men were pouring into his house. He cocked his pistol.  
  
"Not before I take this pig with me."  
  
A shot rang out. John fell to the ground, pushed over by the force of Escoverda falling on top of him, screaming and clutching his leg. The bullet was aimed at the base of Escoverda's foot, but it didn't go in. The gunpowder was enough to make him lose his balance without actually causing any physical damage.  
  
A SO 19 officer grabbed Escoverda and handcuffed him. Another one spoke into the radio, "SO 6, go go go."  
  
SO 6 busted into the house, and took custody of Escoverda.  
  
"Pedro Escoverda you are under arrest for drug smuggling, and supplying within the United Kingdom. You do not have to say anything but it may harm your defence if you do not answer when questioned something that you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be used in evidence. Pending a hearing you will be extradited to the United States where you face charges of four counts of premeditated murder, drug smuggling and supplying.  
  
John stood up, he was shaking. He walked outside to see Escoverda being restrained. June Gowan was looking at him, directly, in his eyes. She said something to him which made him struggle further against his restraints. When she turned away from him, her face was so distorted in anger and rage, John hardly knew her. She walked towards him, her features softening.  
  
"Good work John, I'm proud of you. Congratulations. How are you?"  
  
"Shaken, to say the least."  
  
June put her arm around John. "Let's go get something to drink. I think we both deserve it."  
  
Sir Stephen came up to John and shook his hand again. "Marvellous work, John. You are a credit to the Met. If you ever need anything, please let me know."  
  
"Thank you Sir. It's been a pleasure."  
  
"June, I'm going to take off, call me later for the debriefing. You've done well. You should be proud."  
  
"Thank you Sir."  
  
* * *  
  
Sitting in the van, June prepared coffee for Paul, John and herself. She turned to Dave.  
  
"You almost jeopardised this operation and put all of us at risk. Your attitude is terrible and you are exceedingly unprofessional and discourteous to everyone around you. If you didn't want to work in the UK you should have never agreed to come on this post."  
  
"I am going to recommend that you be relieved of your duties here, pending immediately and see about having you sent to a field office. How does the Midwest sound? Now that the unibomber has been captured, the most you'll have to deal with are cow tippers and crop circles. Good luck to you Dave, you'll need it where you're going."  
  
Dave looked at her, got out of the van and walked off.  
  
"It could be worse. I could have him transferred to Presidential duties, i.e. screening the President's girlfriends and making sure they stay under wraps. There's always a vacancy for those guys," June laughed to herself. "Bill Clinton rivals Kennedy in amount of mistresses. However, I wouldn't wish that job on anyone, it's so degrading."  
  
"Let's go back to the Wharf, Paul, so I can pick up my car. Good work today. Thank you."  
  
"John, Jack Meadows is arranging Uniform to pick up Charles Spire, Ben Bryant, Tony Woods and Michael Blake. They will pass into SO6's hands. We will need to go to a debriefing tomorrow at the Yard. Otherwise, we're pretty much finished. Take the rest of the day off. I'll drop you back at Sun Hill."  
  
John clutched his coffee, feeling himself return to semi-normality again. It was over. He was alive. No one was killed. It was a good result.  
  
* * *  
  
As they drove back to Sun Hill, June put on The Joshua Tree. She sang along, "Hey love, you're all that's left to hold on to, but I'm still waiting. I'm hanging on."  
  
John didn't say anything, but looked out the window.  
  
"John, would you like to go to dinner with me tonight? We need to talk. I'll cook."  
  
"Ok June." He looked at her.  
  
"Come over around 6:30."  
  
"See you then."  
  
John got out of the car and June drove off. He left his car at Sun Hill, and walked home. It had started to rain, misty cold drops on his skin, drenching his clothes and his hair. He put his head up and closed his eyes, letting the rain wash over his face. June Gowan, Pedro Escoverda, Thomas, Gene. what a story he helped bring to a close. The impact of all of it was sinking into his soul, slowly but surely. He wasn't sure, but he thought he knew what June said to Escoverda. He could see her lips moving in front of his eyes.  
  
"For my mother, my father, Thomas, Gene and myself, and for everyone who has died by your hand, it ends now." 


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13  
  
"Come on in, John. I hope you like lasagne Americano. It's a bit different than what you're used to, but I think it's better."  
  
A table was set in the middle of the room, with candles on it, and two place settings. Classical music was playing. June poured some red wine for each of them. There was a sliced baguette on the table.  
  
"Have a seat, John. Make yourself at home."  
  
She went into the kitchen and brought the lasagne in. It smelled divine. She cut a piece for him, and scooped it out on his plate.  
  
Sitting down across the table from him, she smiled at him and raised her glass. "Here's to the two top cops in London. You and me."  
  
June smiled at John. He smiled back but didn't say anything.  
  
"Why are you so quiet, John? You've not said a word since you got in."  
  
"Just a lot on my mind, that's all. I'm still shaken from earlier."  
  
John took a bite of his lasagne. "This is nice. What's in it?"  
  
"Instead of béchamel sauce, we use herbed ricotta cheese. We don't scrimp on the top layer of cheese either, and we like it with plenty of sauce. It's my favourite dish."  
  
"I can see why. It's amazing." John took a bite, chewing slowly, lost in thought.  
  
"June, I heard you praying in the van. I know what you said to Escoverda."  
  
"Please, can we talk about that later?"  
  
They made small talk while they finished their meal. June cleared away the table and they sat on the sofa.  
  
June took John's hand and said, "I've got something I need to say to you."  
  
"John, I invited you here tonight to explain some things to you that I think you should know. Somehow, you found out about my family. You were informed correctly - Escoverda kidnapped them, then murdered them. He also attempted to blow up my car, and put a contract on my head. I knew that wherever I moved to, he would always be there, and I would be looking over my shoulder. The FBI offered me a measure of protection by moving me out of the country, but he found me anyway. I was not about to change my name and give up the few people I had left, just to escape Escoverda. The reason for all of this is that I knew too much about him and his dealings, and he thought by killing my family it would deter me from going after him, it would scare me. It just made me more determined. Do you understand, John?"  
  
John squeezed her hand. "Yes June. I do understand. It must be very painful for you."  
  
"It is. I'm flying back to the states in two days' time. I have some things I need to do over there."  
  
"Will you come back?" John asked.  
  
"I don't know."  
  
They were silent for a few minutes.  
  
"You said I was praying in the van. I was praying for you, that you didn't get killed or hurt."  
  
She took his face in her hands and stared into his big brown eyes. She kissed him lightly on his lips and caressed his cheek.  
  
"I love you John Boulton, but I can't be with you yet. I need to heal. Escoverda's gone, but Thomas is still in my heart. Perhaps someday, I will be able to love you fully, and I will be able to move on from what happened."  
  
"June..."  
  
"I will find you, I will let you know when I'm ready, John. I don't expect you to wait for me, but please know that I'll never forget you."  
  
John embraced her and held her tightly to him. He was unable to say that he loved her as well, although he knew in his heart that he did. It burned his heart, burned his soul, the desire and passion he felt for her, restrained by circumstance. He knew that he would love her forever.  
  
"I want to be with you, but I need more time, and I think you do, as well. You're everything I want in a man. Right now I'm so confused, and I need to go bury some ghosts. Please understand, John. I'm so sorry it has to be this way."  
  
John kissed her lips softly. "I understand, June."  
  
June led him out of the room. "Goodbye John."  
  
"Goodbye June."  
  
* * *  
  
The debriefing was uneventful. John didn't see June at all. He brought her a bouquet of flowers. He ended up chucking them in the bin.  
  
Word had gotten around the nick about what really happened, and he was greeted by applause by his colleagues in CID. On a better day, he would have been shocked. He smiled and sat down.  
  
Reg Hollis asked him if it would be alright to call June and congratulate her. He almost punched Reg's face in, but simply said, "She's not at home, she's gone to America."  
  
He felt empty, drained of life, drained of everything. Jack Meadows suggested he go on holiday. That was the last thing he wanted, to go somewhere to be reminded how very alone he was. He thought of going to America to find June, but realised that it would be like trying to find a needle in a haystack. He threw himself into his work, case after case, getting results, with an increased fire. He learned a lot by working with June, but right now he couldn't put any of it into practice. He was too hurt to be nice to people.  
  
* * *  
  
Three weeks later, a newspaper caption caught his eye, "Drugs Baron Pedro Escoverda Found Dead in his Prison Cell."  
  
His first instinct was to call Sir Steven and find June. He decided that, wherever she was, she would be celebrating right now, and decided to let her be.  
  
He was listening to Achtung Baby lately. It wasn't his favourite U2 album by far, but it summed up the hurt he was feeling:  
  
"You left my heart empty as a vacant lot, for any spirit to haunt."  
  
He spent one week with her, that felt like a lifetime. He would never forget her, and never stop loving her. One life, one love. We've got to carry each other, Bono sang out on the stereo. John knew he would carry June inside of him always. Of this he is sure. 


	14. Epilogue

Epilogue.  
  
It was December. The air was cold, the trees were barren and the ground was frosty. Due to the impending millennium, Scotland Yard decided to be generous to all of it's divisions. Christmas balls were being held all over the country, for the 43 branches. The Metropolitan Police Christmas ball was being held at the Savoy. Every officer in the Met was invited. It was a strictly black-tie affair. Dinner, dancing, the whole nine yards.  
  
The thought of all this made John Boulton's stomach curdle. 'Another Christmas alone.'  
  
Since his parents had retired to Spain, and Mike was in Australia, John had no one to celebrate Christmas with.  
  
'Just what I need. To be reminded how very alone I am. I'd rather be doing overtime.'  
  
However, he seemed to be the only one who felt this way. Everyone else in Sun Hill seemed to be very excited about the prospect of a black-tie ball. Rod Skase already had his date, in fact he organised it the moment the invite hit his desk. Duncan Lennox and Shona were going. So were Jack Meadows and his wife. In fact, it seemed as if the whole station was going to the ball, except him. John wondered who would be left here to nick criminals. He decided to volunteer himself. At least he had a sense of duty, unlike all these other skivvers, a hollow thought, which he used to console himself with.  
  
As he was walking to Jack Meadows' office, he overheard Kerry Holmes' all- too familiar whine.  
  
"But please Guv. I don't have a date and I can't find one. I don't want to go." Kerry pleaded.  
  
"Kerry, no. Tom Proctor has already volunteered to do the night shift. I can't afford to have more than him on. You've got the night off, regardless if you go to the ball or not. It's not my problem." Jack didn't give in.  
  
"Yes, Guv." Kerry said, defeated.  
  
John sighed and turned away to go back to his desk. There goes that little idea.  
  
Kerry turned out of Meadows' office and saw John Boulton walking away. She had a flash of brilliance.  
  
"John, can I have a word?"  
  
"Not if it's about that bloody ball, you can't," he snapped. John was annoyed. It seemed as if everyone had resorted back to sixth form school disco mentality. They weren't children, although the whole nick was behaving as such.  
  
"John, come on. It's probably the only time in our lives when we'll get to go to an exclusive black-tie ball at the Savoy! I really want to go, but I can't bear the thought of going on my own. Please take me. I promise I'll stop getting on your nerves so much, if you would just please do me this little favour."  
  
John grumbled to himself. He let out a sigh and rolled his eyes. "Ok, whatever, Kerry. I don't have to enjoy myself though."  
  
Kerry grinned a widely, "I didn't think you would, not even for a second. Thanks, Sarge. I owe you one."  
  
"You owe me more than one." John mumbled under his breath. He needed a cup of coffee.  
  
* * *  
  
John avoided talking to Kerry about it until the day before. He went up to her desk, stealthily, so not to be sussed by other members of CID, and said, "Pick you up at 7:30?"  
  
Kerry looked up, surprised, and said, "Uh, yeah Sarge. I didn't think we were still on. You hadn't mentioned anything about it since I asked you."  
  
John said, "We are unless you don't want to go. Either way, I don't care," he hastened to add.  
  
Kerry said, "I bet you were a real charmer when a school disco was on."  
  
John rolled his eyes, "I didn't go to any of them. I wasn't in to that sort of nonsense."  
  
Kerry grinned inwardly. 'I bet he starches his boxer shorts.'  
  
"Oh well, that's too bad Sarge. You missed out on some great pre-pubescent rituals. Anyway, 7:30 is alright."  
  
"Try to be ready by then, alright?" John walked away and sat down at his desk  
  
'What a complete wanker', Kerry thought to herself.  
  
* * *  
  
John tooted his horn and Kerry came out of her apartment. She was wearing a very lovely purple frock, with a black pashmina wrapped around her shoulders. He smiled at her.  
  
"You look nice."  
  
Kerry about fell over. John Boulton paid her a compliment! Has hell frozen over?  
  
"Thanks Sarge. You look nice as well."  
  
"We're not at work anymore. Call me John."  
  
"Uh, alright... John." It about broke Kerry's jaw to say his first name.  
  
"This is too surreal for words." Kerry said.  
  
"You know it is. I can't believe I'm going to a dance with you."  
  
John glanced over at her. 'She wouldn't be too bad if she would not be so mouthy. And if she hadn't ruined my chances of joining the flying squad.'  
  
He looked over at her and for a moment; under the passing streetlights, she looked like June Gowan.  
  
"I love you John Boulton, but I can't be with you yet. I need to heal. Escoverda's gone, but Thomas is still in my heart. Perhaps someday, I will be able to love you fully, and I will be able to move on from what happened."  
  
"June..."  
  
"I will find you, I will let you know when I'm ready, John. I don't expect you to wait for me, but please know that I'll never forget you."  
  
The memory almost made him wince in pain. He missed June more than he could say. Many nights went by that he wondered if he'd ever see her again, if she'd make good on her promise to find him when she was ready, or if she met someone else, another American. He wasn't waiting for her, but no one else could compared to her. The way she laughed, the way she captivated his soul. There were times that he wanted to jump on a plane to Washington D.C. and find her, beg her, to be his. He loved her too, he couldn't say it out loud yet, but he knew it, deep down in his very core.  
  
* *  
  
The ball was an absolutely beautiful affair, complete with a speech by the Commissioner of the Met, and, of course, an orchestra. John sat with Kerry, Duncan and Shona, Rod and his girlfriend (who resembled a Stringfellow's dancer), Don Beech, Claire Stanton and Danny Glaze. Across the way from them were most of uniform. Dave and Jenny Quinnan, Polly Page, Reg Hollis, Sam Harker and Cass Rickman, Tony Stamp and Di Worral. The supers all sat together, Mr. Brownlow, Mr. Meadows, Mr. Conway, Mr. Monroe, and DI Deaken with their wives and girlfriends. June Ackland and Bob Cryer sat together with Jim Carver, Matthew Boyden, Vicki Hagen, Gary McCann and Smithy. All in all it looked as if the whole nick had turned out for this event. John was almost glad that he made the effort, even if the main reason was so that he would not have been left out.  
  
After dinner and speeches, people started mingling and dancing to the orchestra. John was talking to Duncan and Shona when he looked up. His jaw dropped. Duncan said something, but it didn't register. Shona turned around to look, as did Duncan, and the majority of people in the room.  
  
There, at the top of the steps was June Gowan, wearing a long black dress that resembled Audrey Hepburn's. Her hair was braided and piled on top of her head. She had black gloves on up to her elbows. She was looking around the room, scanning the crowd for someone in particular. Her eyes focused on John, and she smiled a wide, happy smile. She walked down the steps towards him.  
  
"I wasn't sure if you would be here, as I didn't reckon these sort of do's were exactly your scene, DS Boulton."  
  
John's heart thudded in his chest, his breathing was shallow and his pulse was racing. 'My God she was beautiful. My God.'  
  
"You look really nice, what a gorgeous suit." June smiled up at him, fingering his lapel.  
  
"You look... absolutely stunning. Magnificent." John's throat was dry.  
  
"Will you dance with me, John?" June asked.  
  
"Of...of. of course, June."  
  
'Get yourself together, concentrate,' John thought to himself. He couldn't believe she was here, for him, after almost two months of being apart, she shows up out of the blue like this. His mind was racing, as was his heart.  
  
* * *  
  
Duncan Lennox leaned over to Kerry and whispered, "There's the reason he's been so grumpy for the last few months, I'm willing to bet on it." Kerry just grinned and sipped her drink.  
  
Reg Hollis saw June walk in, but had the misfortune of standing almost directly behind John Boulton. He was sure that she was coming down to him. Imagine his surprise when she started talking to the Sarge! Reg was a bit let down, but didn't let it show. He started talking to Polly instead.  
  
"Can you believe his luck, landing her?"  
  
Polly said, "Nah, it won't last. She's too nice and he's too miserable."  
  
Polly's words turned out to be the general consensus among the Uniform staff regarding John Boulton and June Gowan.  
  
Meadows and Brownlow shot each other glances when June and John started dancing, but didn't say anything.  
  
* * *  
  
John and June danced together in silence for a while. He held her hand firmly while they blended in with everyone else. She looked up into his eyes, inhaling his cologne. She guessed correctly that he wore Obsession for Men, one of her favourites.  
  
"June... why did you come here?"  
  
"I'll tell you in a second, just dance this song with me." She smiled and he pulled her closer to him. He was surprised when she didn't resist.  
  
After the song finished, she said, "Come for a walk with me." She took him by the hand and led him out onto the patio, overlooking the Thames.  
  
"Look up, John, look at the moon."  
  
John looked up and saw the full moon shining down on them, reflecting in the black waters of the Thames. He wasn't sure, but almost thought he saw a shooting star as well.  
  
"John, once upon a time, Neil Armstrong walked on the moon. He said that he made one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind."  
  
"Yes I know this, June." John looked at her, trying to figure out what the point of all this was.  
  
"Every day of our lives, we take small steps and giant leaps. Sören Keikkergard, an existentialist philosopher, once said that man must take the small step from the ledge of doubt, leaping into the giant abyss of faith. Yet again another small step and another giant leap."  
  
John cocked his head to one side, "I'm not sure I follow you."  
  
"Coming here tonight, was, for me, a giant leap. What I'm about to do now, is a small step."  
  
The lights of London twinkled in the darkness, reflected from the river. The moon bathed the city in its pale white light. Music and laughter carried in the breeze, on the crisp winter evening.  
  
Two solitary figures embraced to became one silhouette in the moonlight. Separate and alone as they were individually, together they completed each other. Where there was pain, was healing. Where there was anger, was joy. And where there was doubt, was love. 


End file.
